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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362104">It Comes To You On Silent Feet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detroitbydark/pseuds/Detroitbydark'>Detroitbydark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breeding Kink, F/M, Fix-It, Fox deserves more love, Fox saves the Galaxy, Sith-typical mind fuckery, Smut, and gets the girl, fixing it all!, somehow the smut developed a story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:13:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>70,836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detroitbydark/pseuds/Detroitbydark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Things we shouldn't have always fascinate us most.<br/>For Commander Fox that is the secretary that sits outside his office everyday.<br/>For Ranna Criss, it's the reserved but capable Commander of the Coruscant Guard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-1010 | Fox &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jedi Journals</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The datapads have been loaded to the brim-reports, warrants, requisitions, schedules, and  guard rotations- awaiting the Commanders attention. Ranna frown’s as she reviews the list she’s uploaded. It’s hours worth of data the Commander will need to review and sign off on. She’s  not ready to spring it on him. He needed his rest. Since the incident with the Chancellor and the rogue ARC trooper, he seemed to be getting too little of it. </p><p>He’d stumbled in this morning at 0700 sharp- per his normal but the faint scent of fire-water hung in his wake. He’d been out all night again, too regimented to be late, but slipping in his seeming ability to care for himself.</p><p>Ranna wanted to ask him how he was feeling, to suss out exactly what he needed from her. Though she’d been his personal secretary for nearly a year she still hadn’t figured out how to read his many moods. </p><p>When she’d begun working for clone Commander Fox he’d been so clear and concise with his expectations. He liked his schedule, thrived from it. He required order and regulation. It was her job to keep his day running smoothly. She’d worked hard. Having proven herself capable, he’d reached a point where he seemed to trust her judgement to know what he needed. </p><p>It was anxiety inducing on the best of days. </p><p>Ranna was proud of his trust, privately preening over her ability to know what he wanted before he had to say anything but times like these- the times when he’d say not one word to her for days and arrive each morning like he’d come directly from the cantina, that she wished she had just a little more insight. She didn’t want to disappoint. She wanted him to value her, to know that she was needed and important.</p><p>Ranna groans quietly. Pathetic. Her fingers worry the hem of the standard grey uniform skirt. It hadn’t taken more than a week before she’d begun to harbor a crush on the stoic clone and it had only grown worse the longer she sat at the desk outside his office.</p><p>This morning she’d let him walk by with only a soft, barely-there greeting slipping past her lips. Commander Fox had given even less in return, merely nodding silently as he’d entered his office. Ranna’s shoulders had slumped as his office door had slid shut, only to open again immediately with a quick growl to hold all comms.</p><p>She’d spent the morning turning away all attempts to see the Commander. She’d fought against her reserved nature to hold her ground with the pushier inquiries, offering soft promises to his men and higher ups. </p><p>
  <em>Yes, I’ll make sure Commander Fox knows you need to speak with him</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The commander is indisposed right now. Can I take a message for you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He should be available after lunch Lieutenant Thire. May I schedule for then?</em>
</p><p>The last, Lieutenant Thire, had let his irritation be known with a huff. Ranna apologized but told him the Commander was taking care of very <em>important </em>matters. His look had been skeptical as he’d turned and left the office, his helmet held tightly under his arm.</p><p> It was nearly lunchtime now and she’d not seen hide nor hair of Commander Fox. She’d hoped, given some time, the Commander would be able to work past the hangover she was sure he had and rejoin the world of the living, knowing for a fact that she wouldn’t be able to put off the list of inquiries into his whereabouts much past the lunch hour. So Ranna did what she did best and set to work making things run smooth. An intern, the son of a well to do senator who was looking to add GAR experience to his application for the naval academy to his resume, was to grab lunch with a few spare credits from her pocketbook.</p><p>When he returned she fixed a tray. balancing a mug of black caf, nuclear hot, and a Shawda club sandwich on the tray in one hand and the loaded datapads under her arm as she knocked once on the Commander’s door. She frowned. The scowl feeling as if it’s becoming permanent whenever Commander Fox was in her thoughts as of late. Ranna used her hip to bump the control panel, silently moving into the darkened room as the door slid open.<br/>It closes quickly behind her, leaving her struggling to get a bearing on her surroundings. She blinks rapidly for a moment before shutting her dark eyes entirely to allow them to adjust to the wild change in lighting before reopening them, able to focus more readily in the low light. The blinds on the low window looking out into the midst of Coruscant are pulled tight with only a small sliver of light filtering through.</p><p>He’s sitting straight, feet on the floor and hands flat on his desk. You’d learned quickly that the Commander rarely if ever seemed to relax, at least not when Ranna or other civilians were around. She’d walked in on him and Thire a few months ago, joking and laughing with one another. The difference had been stark. His posture loose and relaxed compared to the stiff controlled way he held himself now.  He glances up, helmet still firmly in place. The blank black visor follows her movements as she pads softly across the room.</p><p>“I’ve brought you a little something.” She mumbles setting the small tray down in front of him. The helmet flows back and forth from the sandwich and caf before landing on her.</p><p>“I would have been fine with a ration pack.” His voice is a low rumble. Not quite disapproving but not particularly warm either. Ranna’s sure it’s not meant to sound discouraging. He’s just pointing out a fact. Still, she feels her heart sink.  Never had she worked for such a hard person to read and her natural inclination was toward pleasing those around her. Sometimes it felt like the harder she tried the colder he became.</p><p>“Yes, of-of course Sir.” Ranna fumbles with the words and curses herself, “I just thought you deserved something with a little more substance. It’s from Dex’s.” She says as if in explanation.  A weak smile crosses her face. “I’ve also got some stims” she reaches into her pocket for the packet and slides it across his desk before he has time to say anything.</p><p>“Do I look like I need stims, Little Mouse?”</p><p>
  <em>Little Mouse.</em>
</p><p>He’d taken to calling her the nickname after he’d heard some of the men referring to her as the little mouse scurrying about his office. It was embarrassing- except when it came from Fox’s lips. Something about it made her belly twist in the most delightful way.</p><p>Fox’s chair swivels to the side and she’s both relieved and disappointed when his attention is no longer focused on her and instead on the ribbons of light filtering in through the window. He pushes the stim packet back and waves a gloved hand dismissively.</p><p>“What else have you got for me, Mouse?”</p><p>Ranna hesitate’s for a moment as he holds his hand out impatiently. She slides the first datapad into his hand. Her fingers brush against his gloved ones. She quickly pull away. The commander’s helmet cocks slightly and though she can’t see his eyes she can feel his gaze linger on her assessingly.</p><p>Ranna clears her throat. Something about the Commander had always made her nervous. Maybe not in a bad way per say but had thrown her off. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, competent and prideful, the air about him like he could take on the world and win.</p><p>“Sir, you really should use the stims. You’ve got a full schedule of meetings this afternoon and that’s before you have drills and range time scheduled-“</p><p>He holds up his hand stopping her short.</p><p>“It’s just a headache. I don’t need stims.”</p><p>“But they’d help”</p><p>“Ranna!” his voice his sharp and you swallow hard, “I said-“</p><p>“I could help then!” The words have left her mouth before she even had time to weigh the pros and cons of them. She’s just as shocked as the Commander at the sudden outburst.</p><p>Fox reaches up to his helmet and  the soft hiss of release sounds before he’s pulling it over his head. Dark circles sit under his eyes. He looks exhausted. </p><p>And gorgeous. </p><p>Even with the uncharacteristic shadow of facial hair and weariness seeping from his pores he was absolutely captivating. </p><p>The sharp cut of his jaw and the warm brown hue of his eyes draw her attention like they did everytime she’d gotten a glimpse of him. Ranna’s unsure where to look as she tries to burn a few more details of the Commanders face into her memory banks to be pulled up and reviewed at a later time.</p><p>“How do you propose making my headache, go away?” He questions with a raised brow.</p><p>Her legs feel stiff as she steps  closer. His eyes are locked on her every move. “My Mama used to get horrible headaches” she begins softly “used to need to lay in a dark room and suffer through them till they let her be. I learned a few tricks over the years to help her. I c-could see if they work for you?”</p><p>“Tricks?” He chuckles, “wielding a bit of the Force, Little Mouse? Should I call the Temple and tell them they’ve misplaced one of their Jedi?”</p><p>Ranna’s eyes dip and her cheeks burn. She shouldn’t have said anything. She shouldn’t speak out of turn with the Commander. She-</p><p>“You all talk now?” His voice has softened and she’s suddenly more embarrassed. He feels like he’s got to handle her with kid gloves. Ranna can feel it in the way his words flow over her skin. She’s supposed to be a reflection of him. How could she help him maintain-</p><p>“Little Mouse, get out of your head.” </p><p>Her eyes shoot up at the order and glimpse satisfaction roll across his face.</p><p>“Come here and heal me if you will” She can hear the teasing tone to his voice and swallows hard before moving to comply. This was her idea after all. She wanted to be useful. Helpful. </p><p>Moving around the desk slowly, Ranna keeps her eyes locked on the Commander’s. She can feel him picking apart each movement with his gaze. He’s studying, like a hunter waiting for their prey to show a weak point. It’s a sorry line of thinking because suddenly she imagines Commander Fox, stalking after her, his eyes burning with a want that she had only fantasized he could feel for her. She presses on, moving to his side. Her knee press gently into his, bare skin against cool plastoid. </p><p>Her heart flutters, beating against the bars of her chest. If he notices her nerves- and how can he not- he says nothing. Her hands rise slowly, hesitantly. She can not only feel but see her hands tremble as they move closer. She ball them into fists, squeezing until her knuckles go white before releasing them to make contact.</p><p>He’s warm. It’s the first thing she notice as one hand comes to rest against his forehead and the other cradles the back around where his occipital lobe was located. He kept his hair high and tight with two thin lines that circled from his left ear and fades out at the back of his head. It was not completely shaved along the sides but so short that it was almost nonexistent. She can feel the soft prickle of it at the back of his head. She fights back the urge to run her fingers over it. He seems nearly as tense as she is. </p><p>“You need to relax Sir” Ranna encouragement is barely a whisper. Fox inhales deeply, she focuses on the rise and subsequent fall of his shoulders. He repeats it twice more before enough tension seems to drain to begin. </p><p>Ranna places even pressure through her palms as if she were trying to bring them together in the middle. The Commander grunts but she’s already relaxing back. She repeats it, pressing her hands toward one another then easing off. The Commander lets out a soft sigh of breath as she continues to repeat the pattern. She’s glad he’s relaxing into her touch because she feels as if she’s only growing more tense, nerves balling in low in her tummy.</p><p>Ranna’s never touched him before outside of the accidental flutter of fingers against his own. Now she’s so close she can feel the heat radiate from his body. He tips his head forward into her hand before and turning and repositioning his chair slightly so she suddenly finds herself standing between his spread knees. </p><p>“That’s <em>good</em>, Little Mouse” he hums lowly and the sound shoots straight to Ranna’s core. She barely have time to wrap her head around the feeling when his hand is coming up to rest at her hip. She squeaks out a sound, his grip tightens, “don’t stop.” He orders.</p><p>“Yes, S-sir” </p><p>“It’s Fox, Mouse. Call me Fox.”</p><p>“Yes Comm- Fox” Ranna’s hands continue a gentle pulse of pressure against his head. His thumb begins a series of slow, maddening circles on her hip.</p><p>“See that’s not so bad is it.” His voice has gone low, silky like she’s never heard it. So much more dangerous than the usual gravel of it. “You’re always trying to take care of me, aren’t you, precious girl?”</p><p>Ranna opens her mouth to say something- anything- when the door slides office door slides open suddenly. She stumbles away, as if she’d been burned by his touch. Fox’s hand drops away but he makes no other indication anything is amiss. Ranna blinks dumbly into the bright light backlighting the new arrival.</p><p>“Am I interrupting?” Lieutenant Thire’s voice sounds amused as she takes another step away and lowers her eyes. She mumbles a quick excuse and slips toward the door.  The lieutenant chuckles. Fox’s voice, so much like Thire’s but yet so different, calls after her as she escapes the room.</p><p>“We’ll continue this conversation later, Little Mouse.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is only his own shoddy luck and his Little Mouse’s uncanny understanding of E and E, that allow her to evade him and evacuate from any interaction for the rest of the week.  </p><p>A sudden surge in Anti-republic activity had the Guard running ragged to keep up. Fox refused to allow the Coruscant Security Force to regain any footing that he’d so rightfully taken from them. They were not bred and trained to do what his men could and their poor handling of one too many cases connected to the senate and its officials made it very clear that he and his men could perform at a far superior level to then any day of the week. The Supreme Chancellor seemed to agree which only made him more sure of their undertaking.</p><p>That said, by the end of the week his Shock Troopers we’re running on stims and a prayer, pulled thin by the multiple officials requiring additional security, but they were still running. Fox himself had only managed a few hours in the office between Tuesday and Saturday in between investigations. While Ranna had been present each time- as he’d expected- she managed to find reasons to wiggle out of his sight the first second she could. He’d begun to second guess his initial assessment of her interest. Luckily, he was hitting the post stim wall and everything not immediately involved with sustaining life was pushed to the far back of his mind to worry about later. It was 0800 Saturday and he was running on three hours of sleep in the last 36. His rack was crying out his name. </p><p>On Kamino he’d never been privy to the notion of privacy but the Supreme Chancellor had commended he and his men for their loyalty and dedication to the Republic. As such he’d felt them entitled to a somewhat higher standard of living then other clones. Fox had felt unsure of the change at first but the Chancellor had insisted the guardsmen entrusted with his life and the safety of the Senate be allowed private rooms within the greater barracks facilities as reward for their service. While his room wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination it was his and his alone offering a bed twice the size of anything he’d ever slept in and his own private fresher with hot water that never seemed to quit.</p><p>He’d already decided against the shower upon walking through the door. He worked to peel out of his armor and unceremoniously discarded his under armor shirt before collapsing in a heap atop his blankets. Sleep pulled at his consciousness and he was nearly lost to it when he heard the knock at his door, somehow managing to growl out an ‘enter’ order will still face down on the comforter.</p><p>When he looks up, Mouse is there like a dream standing there hesitating in the halo of light that bathes the entry. She’s not in her usual stark GAR issued uniform but form fitting civvies, pants and inky black jacket fitted over a tank top. Why was she concerning herself with him on her day off? </p><p>Ranna takes a step through the open door allowing it to slide shut with a soft hiss behind her.  </p><p>Fox pushes himself up right. He takes a moment to scrub at the sleep in his eyes before his focus narrows in on her.</p><p>Her eyes are wide and looking everywhere but at him. That’s fine. It gives him time to allow his own eyes an lazy perusal of her soft curves, so often hidden to him in nondescript GAR greys.</p><p>“It’s Saturday, Mouse.” He notes as she finds a place on the wall to stare at. “What do you need?” His voice is sharper than he’d usually use with her but he has little control over that right now and - for kriff sake - why wasn’t she looking at him?</p><p>“Sir, I’m sorry but I have these for you to sign and I wanted to get them done” she rattles through quickly. “and I’m s-so sorry to bother you and I-“</p><p>“Ranna! Enough!” He barks and she freezes “and for the love of the Senate, look at me when we’re talking.”</p><p>“But Commander your-“ she makes a gesture toward his chest. Fox realizes she’s pointing to his state of undress and slowly rises. He notes the way her eyes rake over him when she thinks he’s not looking. He offers a raised brow pointedly.</p><p>Ranna chews at her lip in that very distracting way she did when she was nervous. He groans, unable to stop the soft sound.</p><p>“Kriff, just hand be the pad and tell me what I’m signing”</p><p>She moves hesitantly and he can’t help but roll his eyes as his jaw is stretched into a yawn. He can’t imagine being any less intimidating than he is now, out of armor and minutes from sleep. </p><p>“It’s your field reports and rotation schedule for next week. They’re due by 2200 tonight and you weren’t in the office yesterday and I don’t want you to get in trouble...” One arm crosses over her chest and grips her arm as he takes the pad and signs. “I’m so sorry for bothering you sir.”</p><p>He can feel the way her eyes trace the tattoos that cover his right arm from wrist to shoulder and cross over his chest. “You’re not a bother. You just have inopportune timing.” She nods absently, “Ranna?”</p><p>“Sir?” She shakes her head in confusion.</p><p>“I said something to you. Or were you too busy enjoying my artwork to listen.”  Her eyes have dipped to his arms again.</p><p>“Mmhm...I mean… yes- no! Commander Fox, I’d never stare. That was very rude of me.”</p><p>Fox can’t help but chuckle. “If I had a few more hours of sleep” he flexes his arms and watches her eyes follow the movement as the muscles bunch, “we could explore each and every centimeter of ink on my body but, unfortunately, for the both of us that’s not the case.” Ranna swallows hard as he hands back the datapad. “Now, unless you’ve decided to crawl into bed with me and pretend to be my favorite stuffed Ewok…” he lets the teasing question hang in the air and is surprised by the swipe of pretty pink tongue across her lips-though less surprised at the stirring he feels low in his belly. </p><p>Later, he’ll think she nearly took him up on the offer. That, or it was simply the delusion of an exhausted man.</p><p>“Thank you Commander Fox, I’ll get these filed immediately.” She turns to leave and he clears his throat. She halts mid stride, hand already reaching for the door panel.</p><p>“79’s tonight.”</p><p>“Fox?” He likes the way she drops his title and the breathless way she says his name.</p><p>“We’ll be at 79’s tonight if you want to join.”</p><p>“I- I may take you up on the offer.”</p><p>When she’s gone Fox wastes not a second collapsing back into the bed and crashing into sleep. When he wakes he doesn’t remember the dream of soft kisses and his Little Mouse curled up underneath him.</p><p>——</p><p>The end of another successful week always warrants a celebration. The back booth at 79’s is composed of a contingent of the Coruscant Guard. It wasn’t the most welcoming waterhole in the parsec but they managed and the end of the week brought drink specials that their small quarterly stipends couldn’t turn down. </p><p>Commander Fox liked to think It did well to show the other troopers that they were just as human as they were or, as Thorn had once pointed out, to remind them that eyes were always on them. Either way the mass of other clones gave them a wide berth. Though the whispered curses, in both Basic and Mando’a, were hard to miss. Eyes from members of the 501st and 332nd- among others- were easily felt and readily ignored.</p><p>Rule, Hound and Thire, still in the red and white plastoid armor were taking bets on which would be the first to get the comms of the new waitress, a pretty Twi’lek with pale blue skin and a stunning smile, while Ryk and Wren were at the bar ordering the next round of drinks. Their Grey's blended into the sea of other clones but Fox knew who was who, he always kept an eye on the kits.  </p><p>Fox watches quietly, eyes flitting from his guardsmen brothers and other clones meandering about. He was off the job so the amount of fucks he truly gave about the behavior of the 501st and the rest of the cadre of troops letting loose was negligible. If their command couldn't handle them that was their problem. He just wanted to drink in peace. </p><p>The ice in his glasses rattles wetly as he nurses two fingers of whiskey, Cheedoan with mature smoky notes and a peppery finish. He's on his third of the night.</p><p>He doubted his invitation, thrown out on a whim, would be accepted but it doesn't stop him from occasionally glancing toward the door. He rolls his tongue along the inside of his lip and let's another sip of whiskey wash along his taste buds. He enjoys the burn though it’s becoming weaker with each passing drink. The sensation warms- like rays of sunshine over bare skin- from the inside dulling the demons that had been eating at him for over a month now.</p><p>“You want in on this, Sir?” </p><p>Fox shoots Rule a questioning look. The Sargent seems more than happy to ignore his commander’s lack of focus on the task at hand.</p><p>“You think you can get the Twil’s comm?” Rule clarifies, his mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief in the low light.</p><p>Fox lets his gaze drift to the woman in question as she moves about the room. Her steps are fluid and she manages to move through the crowd without knocking into any of the inebriated clones or allowing her tray and the drinks atop it to be disturbed in the least. She’s a professional that knows her crowd. She’s got a tempting amount of flesh on display and her lekku- long and elegant- are swept back over her shoulders. Her hips are pleasantly curved and have a nice dip to them as she moves. He glances at his brothers from the corner of his eye. Hound wets his lips as he watches, never one for playing his cards close to his chest.</p><p>“Nah” Fox says after a moment with a shake of his head, “wouldn’t be fair to you” The trio of clones laugh and Thire elbows the younger Hound in the side, head dipping toward Fox as the Commander lets his eyes sweep back toward the main entrance. </p><p>“The Commander has a smaller quarry in mind.” He tips the bottle up in a three fingered grip as he empties the dregs of it. Hound turns a questioning look on the Commander and Fox sighs internally. <em>This again</em>. He doesn’t let on that he’s heard but Thire is not one to let a sleeping dog- or fox- lie. His look is challenging. “Got a little mouse in his sights.”</p><p>Fox shakes his head as the Guardsmen begin to snicker. He’s glad Ranna hasn’t shown. He’d hate for her to be surrounded by <em>children</em>.</p><p>“Really, Sir?” Hound asks.</p><p>Thire answers, “I bet she’s an absolute spinner, get one that’s wound that tight to finally cut loose…?” He lets the thought hang in the air and the others hum quietly.</p><p>Fox feels his lip twitch. Thire wasn’t wrong but he wasn’t about to let it be known that he had the same thoughts. He also didn’t appreciate the cavalier way he spoke about things he knew Sithshit about. It was more than a base level attraction he had for Ranna. He couldn't put his finger on it, a feeling he hadn't felt before, but he enjoyed the way she looked after him. It was like she cared what happened to him. It made him want to do the same for her.  </p><p>He’d been halfway to finding out what his Little Mouse really thought of him when they’d been so rudely interrupted earlier in the week and far too exhausted to string together any kind of seduction when she’d turned up in his private quarters this morning.</p><p>He could play the long game though and it was only a matter of time until he was given another chance. He was a patient man when the situation called for it and he would get to the bottom of whatever it was that drew his eyes to her.</p><p>He raises the glass to his lips and finishes the nearly full drink in one swallow, licking his lips as the glass comes down hard against the table, the ice tinkling merrily as he does.</p><p>Fox shakes his head once and gives the boys a calculating smile. “I’m not going to validate any of that with a response.”</p><p>“Sir,” It’s Rule’s turn to speak up, “I think your silence tells us everything we need.”</p><p>Fox offers a shrug as he slips from the booth, laying down some credits in his wake.</p><p>“Maybe so” he offers. He feels the buzz of alcohol in his veins. He needed to cut back before it became a problem but that wouldn't be tonight.  “I'm going to see what's taking the kits so long at the bar.” </p><p>The Twi’lek waitress passes close as he heads toward the long garishly lit bar. Her perfume is sweet, almost cloyingly so. Fox glances over his shoulder as he begins to make his way into the thrum of clones and civilians and shouts back to his <em>vode</em> “my credits are on Hound”.</p><p>A roar of laughter follows him as he moves through the crowd. He leans against the bar top as other clones offer him a wide berth. He catches the bartender’s eye and waits his turn to be served.</p><p>"Are you going to b-buy me a drink, Commander?" The soft voice catches him off guard as he feels a gentle tug at his greys. He can't help the smile that falls to his lips as he turns.</p><p>"Didn't think you'd-" Fox's voice trails off as he takes in the woman in front of him. There is certainly nothing mousy about the dress she's wearing. She's got the black coat she was wearing this morning draped over her arm as she flashes him a nervous smile. He can't help but lean back and give her a long sweeping look. She's added a few inches with strappy heels she's wearing. From there he's treated to a long expanse of bare legs that seem to go on forever. The hem of her dress skims high on her thigh. It's red. Almost a perfect match for his own paint job and he bites back asking if it was a coincidence. She makes a nervous sound and he quickly remembers his manners. "You look stunning, Ran”</p><p>"Thank you Comman- Fox. It's not too much is it?" Any other woman would sound like she was fishing for compliments but with Ranna he knew that it was a genuine question.</p><p>Fox let's his eyes trace over her face and guided by alcohol his hand smooths over her hair. Its soft brown depths are sleek and longer than he ever thought it would be moving in gentle waves over her shoulders. She's a vision that he knows he hasn't done a damn thing to deserve. "You're lovely. Can I?" he gestures behind him as the bartender heads over.</p><p>"What you're having?"</p><p>He wastes no time in repeating his order from earlier x2. He can't help but chuckle when she takes her first sip and her face screws into a sour expression. </p><p>"i'm sure it'll grow on me" She jokes.</p><p>"If it doesn't, I owe you something else." he promises as he loops an arm around her waist. She stiffens momentarily and Fox wonders if he's crossed the line they've been straddling. She relaxes into his touch and he decides he doesn't care if he has crossed that line. The looks his boys give him as they return only serves to bring a smug smile to his face. </p><p>"Mouse!" Thire and Rule greet in tandem. Ranna presses into his side and he shoots the boys a look that says <em>tone it down</em>, in no uncertain terms. Hound and Ryk scoot to the side as Fox ushers her into the booth, moving in next to her as she does. </p><p>Ryk, ever the sweet youngster offers a gentle smile to their guest, "The Commander didn't tell us you were coming. You look really pretty."</p><p>His Little Mouse blushes and dips her chin, "I didn't think I was going to but" she shrugs, "here I am."</p><p>Fox feels her knee bump against his and his free hand dips down to rest over it. She looks up at him through dark lashes and relaxes into his side. Taking another sip of her drink she manages not to make a face.</p><p>"You don't have to drink that." he reminds as Thire catches his eye. </p><p>"It's growing on me." she hums.</p><p>"I hope I do the same."</p><p>She laughs, it's the first he's ever heard from her and it's light and effervescent, addictive. "Who says you haven't already?"</p><p>"Mouse?" It's Wren, Rule's batchmate, newly returned with a round of shots. "I didn't know you were here? I could have gotten you one too." He points to the neon green test tube. Hound makes a face of disgust.</p><p>"You know I hate Sith Spit." he groans and turns to Ranna “You can have mine."</p><p>Ranna gives the trooper a sweet smile and accepts to shot he offers. When all members have them Thire let's out a raucous cheer of <em>K'oyacyi.</em></p><p>The gathered Coruscant Guard answers back. "<em>K'oyacyi!</em>" Ranna joins in quietly just a split second behind the rest and takes her shot before setting the vial down while the others slam their own. Fox laughs a deep rumbling thing that has her smiling up at him shyly. "didn't know you knew Mando'a?"</p><p>"I was just following along."</p><p>"careful <em>cyar'ika</em>" he warns playfully, "you never know what your agreeing too" She gives him a curious look and he shakes his head. "you said <em>cheers."</em></p><p>"And <em>cyar'ika?"</em></p><p><em>"</em>Ancient Mando'a for <em>nosey little mouse" </em>He offers with a straight face. She swats playfully at his arm. It's entirely ineffectual and he smiles like an idiot. It was good to see her loosening up the longer she spent around them. He pushes back the grey GAR issued cap on his head. He hadn't felt these easy going in ages.</p><p>"Mouse" Rule speaks up from the otherwise of the booth. "Do you dance?"</p><p>Fox looks down at her curiously as she shrugs, "Not in a long time."</p><p>"Wanna dust off the dancing shoes for me?"</p><p>Multiple sets of eyes travel to Fox who puts his hands up, "It's not my decision. If the mouse wants to dance she can dance."</p><p>He's said something right because a smile flashes across her face and she nudges at him to move out of the way. Fox relents and Rule takes her hand, helping her to her feet. His eyes follow the pair to the dance floor. </p><p>Thire slides closer, "already ready to lose her?"</p><p>Fox shrugs, "she's not mine yet and if you think Rule is going to be the one to snatch her away than you’re crazy." Thire laughs and goes back to his drink. Fox sips at his drink as he watches Rule's hands fall to her hips. Mouse moves them in enticing circles that make him wish he'd asked her to dance first. The music thrums and the lights flash and Ranna laughs and giggles as Rule spins her around then pulls her in tight to dip her. Every member of the Guard in attendance quiets as they watch her dress ride up her thighs. </p><p>"Maker help me..." Wren squeaks.</p><p>"Tell me about it" Hound adds.</p><p>Fox is silent as he watches her hair frame her face like a silken mane. Something inside him, a possessive quiet voice purrs <em>mine.</em></p><p>His vision is disturbed a second later as a soldier, clad in blue and white plastoid, blocks his view.</p><p>"<em>vod’kyramund</em>"</p><p>Brother killer.</p><p>The words hit him like a blaster bolt to the gut. Instantly he’s on alert and his previous good mood is suddenly sucked from his body.</p><p>His shoulders have already gone tense before he’s even slipped from the booth.</p><p>“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that” the words are growled out- a low and dangerous sound that should have warned the clone trooper to check himself.</p><p>The trooper lurches into his space knocking against the table. Drinks splash over their rims as the newcomers squad mates quickly moving to hold him back but he shakes them off, “hear or don’t hear what you want but it doesn’t make it less true.”</p><p>Fox looks at the pair of men behind the instigator and notes his own team of backup slipping from the booth. </p><p>A half circle has formed up around them and Fox can hear the murmur beginning to rise. The tension is thick, even a plasma blade would have trouble cutting through it. </p><p>The song ends and he catches Rule pull Ranna close as she attempts to move back to the table. </p><p>Fox makes sure the dreg from the 501st throws the first punch. It'll hurt like hell tomorrow but it'll make the paperwork so much simpler.  </p><p>The night disintegrates into chaos from there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>Ranna giggles as Rule pulls her in between clones and couples already crowding the small dance floor. He glances over his shoulder and flashes a lopsided grin.</p>
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  <p>She’d had a soft spot for the clone since taking the position with Commander Fox, when on her first day he’d welcomed her with a wide grin and asked if she had a brother she could hook him up with. </p>
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  <p>He and his batchmate, Wren, were the two youngest sargents in Guard history and contrary to his name, Rule was anything but <em>by the regs</em>. Even his eyes, one amber and the other deep brown were outside of the standard. </p>
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  <p>The pulsing beat of the music has Ranna moving without much thought. Rule glances at a spot behind her and offers a mischievous smile at whomever he sees. His fingers tickle at her sides and her head fall back as a laugh bubbles up over her lips. She hadn’t felt so at ease in her own skin in ages. Had anyone else asked, she’d have probably said no… Well, that wasn’t exactly true but she certainly wouldn’t have been nearly as relaxed had it been <em>Fox </em>with his hands on her hips. </p>
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  <p>Fox.</p>
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  <p>When he’d casually thrown out the invitation Ranna had been adamant she would not be doing anything such thing but she’d been far too distracted by his very appealing… attributes to come up with a good excuse. She’d  escaped the barracks with a flushed face and more to add to her mental map of the Commander than she’d ever dreamt possible. Thankfully, she  hadn’t the misfortune of a run in with any of the other men.</p>
  <p>As they day had progressed and her work been finished she’d started to think that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe she could enjoy a night out and have fun. It had been a long time since she’d done anything for herself. Just maybe, seeing the commander outside of office hours would make her feel like she was on more of a level playing field.</p>
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  <p>Rule’s gloved hands squeeze lightly as they span her hips, drawing her attention back. Pulling her close he dips his mouth against the shell of her ear.</p>
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  <p>“He’s watching you.” Ranna shivers at the warm breath skittering across her skin.</p>
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  <p>“Who?” She tris to glance over her shoulder. Rule reaches up and grips her jaw, giving it a gentle shake and a mock frown of disapproval. It’s time like this when she is completely at a loss for how he manages to complete any sort of law enforcing duties. He was an absolute clown and she kind of adored him for it.</p>
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  <p>“No looking, Mouse! You gotta play hard to get-“ Rule grabs her hand and spins her in a quick circle. Ranna’s hair flies out around her in a soft wave and comes back to rest on her shoulders.</p>
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  <p>She giggles again. “Who are you even talking about?”</p>
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  <p>“The Commander. Are you serious right now?”</p>
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  <p>“You're lying!” She doesn’t dare look over her shoulder because she’d hoped for this, right? When she’d decided on her favorite red dress and heels that she knew did miraculous things for her legs; when she’d allowed him to get her a drink; when he’d lead her to the table; when his warm hand had stroked along her knee under the table while the others carried on and cut-up. These were all the things she’d dreamed of. Why was she so incredulous that his actions might actually match up with his intent?</p>
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  <p>Rule’s brows skin along his hairline. “Do I look like a liar?” he holds up a hand when she goes to open her mouth “Wait, don’t answer that… but come on. You don’t see-“ he shakes his head. “This is great”</p>
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  <p>“For someone who wanted to dance you’re certainly talking a lot.”</p>
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  <p>He mimics zipping his lips as she presses closer, her body flush with his as her arms slip over his shoulders. She lets herself just enjoy the moment. Her hips twist and sway with the beat. Rule is an excellent partner and she’s more than happy to let him lead.</p>
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  <p>As the song comes to its inevitable end and the next begins to bleed in Ranna turns back toward the booth. Before she can take a single step she feels Rule’s arms circling around her waist and pulling her back against the hard planes of armor. </p>
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  <p>She struggles in his grip but it only tightens more. She stills and her eyes focus in on the source of the troopers discontent. A crescent of blue and white armored clones is circling in on their group.</p>
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  <p>“Nope. Not happening Mouse” he says firmly, humor gone from his voice as if she’d only imagined it ever being there to begin with.</p>
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  <p>“What’s happening?” </p>
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  <p>She can feel his rumble of displeasure, “nothing good, that’s for sure.”</p>
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  <p>A cold chill shoots from her head to her toes. Voices rise above the rumble of bass. Ranna can’t make out what’s being said but Rule snarls quietly.</p>
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  <p>“Ranna I need-“ </p>
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  <p>The firm grip he’d held her in disappears suddenly.<br/>Something’s happened. Something has snapped and the crescent disintegrates. Everyone is off to the races.</p>
  <p>Rule is already moving past  before she can question any further. His steps stutter and he looks back at as other clones and patrons begin to surge past to watch the scene. He jabs his finger toward where she stands.</p>
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  <p>“Stay here.”<br/><br/>Ranna nods weakly because she’s never seen the clone sergeant so deathly serious. She instantly Wants to take back what she had thought earlier. She could see the soldier now, pushing through the gathered crowd as the sound of the melee and the cheers of the onlookers continues to grow.</p>
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  <p>———-</p>
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  <p>The first hit hurts like a blaster bolt right across the jaw. It takes Fox a second to make sure it hasn't been broken, working it right and left as he gets his bearings. The <em>di’kut</em> had needed to throw the first one so he could beat him into the ground and call it self defense. Now that he had, it was on. Fox wastes no time launching himself at the trooper, only remembering the disadvantage he found himself in at the last second. He’d chosen to come out in greys and the trooper has everything but a bucket on his head.</p>
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  <p>It’s less than ideal.</p>
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  <p> His shoulder drives into hard plastoid and explodes into bright lancing pain. He doesn’t stop though as the trooper falls a step back with an audible <em>oof.</em> A pair of hands grabs his shoulders and he glances back to see a flash of blue and white before one of the 501st is dragging him off.</p>
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  <p>“So much for a quiet night” he hears Hound mumble as the scuffle escalates into a full blown brawl. Fox’s foot comes down hard across the top of his new partners foot. It’s not enough to cause any damage, the GAR issued boots are made of stronger things, but it’s enough to make him hesitate. When his head dips Fox throws an elbow back, connecting with the side of the troopers head. He’s half impressed when he’s still in his hold.</p>
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  <p> The music still pounds away and the lights flash, only adding to the chaos. To his right glass shatters and cheers rise up.</p>
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  <p>Of course there was a kriffing audience. Clones loved a good fight and tonight they were getting a free show.</p>
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  <p>From the corner of his eye he watches Ryk duck a poorly thrown swing from his right, thankful his opponent had obviously had one too many and his balance is off.</p>
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  <p>“There’s a lot of boys in blue in here-.” Another voice pipes in. Thire.</p>
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  <p>“I’ll take quality over-“ Fox feels the set of arms wrapped around his chest relax just enough to adjust.. With a quick jerk he throws his head back and thanks Fett the guys bucket isn't on. Stars flash in front of his eyes but when the arms go slack he’s able to stumble forward a step. The trooper behind him clutches his face trying to stem the flow of blood. “-over quantity”</p>
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  <p>“Well and good, Sir-“ Fox turns in time to see Thire double over as a plastoid knee is driven up into his stomach. Fox moves quickly and hauls the trooper off before he can land another. Now he’s Fox’s problem as he rains haymakers.</p>
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  <p> “<em>Fierfek</em>” Thire wheezes out, righting himself as Fox let’s the trooper go and he stumbles into a well placed leg sweep from Thire.</p>
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  <p>The men move back to back as the original poodoo shiny who’d started the whole mess comes back into Fox’s sight. This was not who he wanted filling his dance card tonight. Another bluey circles around to Thire.</p>
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  <p>“So much for an easy night out.” Fox grumbles managing to dip as the next swing comes. He’s not as lucky as the first time he’d pulled that move and he feels the clones fist connect with his right eye but he doesn’t stop to assess why he can’t see or what the warm liquid rolling across his face is. He’s got a pretty solid idea. </p>
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  <p>With the blurred vision from his right, his depth perception is thrown off and his first punch glances across the troopers jaw as he takes a step back.</p>
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  <p>“Not so hot now are you” the jeer makes Fox’s blood boil. Fuck him. He was a Shock Trooper. Close combat was in his blood, specially trained to put punks like them down.</p>
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  <p>The only people who had it worse on Kamino had been the Commandos and the ARCs and the sorry excuse for a trooper in front of him wasn’t either. </p>
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  <p>Fox takes another jab to the face and he can feel blood pooling in his mouth, he works a gob of it and spits it across the front of the troopers armor. A souvenir to remember him by. </p>
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  <p>He manages to telegraph the next hit and drops low to sweep the troopers legs, his armored body hits the ground with a clatter as the Commander rolls on top of him, the solid muscles of his arm locking around the trooper neck and squeezing, using her other arm as leverage to hold the first in place.</p>
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  <p>The area around the booth looks like a war zone. Wren has arms banded around his chest while another trooper works his middle. Fox sees when Rule enters the fray and immediately offers backup to his batchmate. He wasn’t a fan of hitting somebody from behind but he also wasn’t a fan of two on one so he doesn’t give one shit when Rule knocks into the trooper from behind.  The Trooper in his own grasp starts to go limp and he lets him fall to the floor. He hoped he had a headache the size of wild space when he woke up. </p>
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  <p>Hound is having his own go of it on his back with a trooper over him. Out of the corner of his eye Fox watches as Hound kicks out with a leg and rolls to the side before springing back on the trooper. A change of position changing the course of the war. </p>
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  <p>Fox glances around for his next dance partner. He may not have wanted to kick this party off but he was now more than happy to see it through till the end. He’s entered that cold and detached state his instructors on Kamino had always encouraged. You made fewer mistakes when you weren’t being led by rage. You calculated your moves and allowed your training and muscle memory to take over.</p>
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  <p>“A little...help...sir” it’s Ryk’s voice from his left. It’s three to one and he’s keeping up but barely.</p>
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  <p>“Gotcha” Fox’s lips curl back in a silent snarl as he stalks to Ryk, tearing first one then another off his man. The second wrenches from his grasp and lands a pair of blows to Fox’s ribs that make him feel like he’s underwater. He can’t drag in a breath. He lashes out, hoping he’s aimed true, his fist connects with hard plastoid-</p>
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  <p>“ENOUGH” </p>
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  <p>Fox recognizes the voice instantly and feels relief wash over him. While the trooper in front of him is temporarily distracted he lashes out with a fist across the face. He knuckles explode in pain but the trooper drops to the ground with a satisfying thud. </p>
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  <p>Fox shakes out his hand and hisses as he sees new faces move into start separating the combatants from one another. He hunches over pulling in harsh stinging breaths of air. </p>
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  <p>“<em>Vod’ika</em>. You look like hell”</p>
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  <p>“<em>Ori’vod</em>” Fox pants in greeting as the form of Commander Wolffe slips into his view. “Late to the party as always” Wolffe offers his hand and the two grasp forearms while Fox straightens up.</p>
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  <p>Wolffe gestures to the mess of blood and glass littering the floor. Members of the 104th are still working to separate Hound and his opponent while others are helping both members of the Guard and 501st off the floor. “I feel like too much paperwork comes with this kind of party.”</p>
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  <p>Fox spits off to the side. It’s still full of blood. “that is correct.” He huffs quietly as his men begin to fall in around him.</p>
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  <p>“Really don’t feel like spending my entire 24 hours planetside taking care of you. You need the medbay, vod” Wolffe arches a brow and points a finger, “unless you feel like walking around with a fissure in your face. I know you like red but the blood is a bit much.” Fox reaches up and feels the warm sticky flow congealing along his face.</p>
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  <p>He thinks to argue but then tries to pull in a breath and has to slam his eyes shut from the sharp pain that shoots through his chest.</p>
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  <p>“Broken ribs, sir” Thire offers knowing.</p>
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  <p>“Yeah. Yeah. You don’t need to tell me about it” Fox groans. </p>
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  <p>“Kriff…” Fox turns to see Rule cursing under his breath, a bright bruise is blooming across the bridge of his swollen nose and he’d be willing to bet credits he’d have two solid black eyes in the morning.</p>
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  <p>“Sargent?”</p>
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  <p>Rule looks anxious as his eyes dart past the dissipating crowd and the troopers heading off to lick their wounds. Staff is grumbling quietly and throwing dirty looks their way.  “I can’t find Mouse.”</p>
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  <p>Fox growls and he feels a pit building in his stomach. Wolffe gives him a curious look as he scans the crowd.</p>
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  <p>“I’m sorry sir, I told her to stay back. I didn’t want her to get mixed up in anything”</p>
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  <p>“Easy Rule, you did right.” He says shaking his head. In the chaos he’d completely forgotten about Ranna and now she was gone. Two steps forward one step back he supposed..</p>
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  <p>“If it helps, I’m rooting for you.” Rule offers.</p>
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  <p>Hound laughs weakly As he staggers over, wrapping an arm over the young sargent’s shoulder and sagging against him. “I’m not. Sooner you're out of the way. Sooner I can move in.”</p>
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  <p>Rolling his eyes, Fox turns to Wolffe. He's not in a humorous mood. A sudden bout of irritability is creeping over him, paired with pain and the fallout from the spent adrenaline he doesn’t much feel like joking. </p>
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  <p>Wolffe was good. He got it. </p>
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  <p>“Let’s get you to the medbay and you can fill me in on what’s been going on.”</p>
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  <p>———</p>
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  <p>Ranna’s hands are shaking as she leans back against the cool metal of her. They’ve been doing it since she left 79’s. She’d fumbled with the door code three times before she was able to even get it to slide open.</p>
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  <p>She knew what Rule had said but she hadn’t listened. Now she regretted letting the press of people carry her toward the fray. She regretted pushing through onlookers until she was able to see.</p>
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  <p>Swallowing hard she pushes off the door and makes her way into the fresher.  Her face is pale as it stares back at in the mirror. The water is cool when she turns the faucet on and cups handfuls of it to splash across her face and pat  along her neck. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she closes her eyes she sees blood. She didn’t do well with blood. Actually, that was an epic understatement. She shut down with blood. Checked out. And there had been so much. Her sweet Rule had it pouring from his nose, the floor was splattered with it, and Fox- </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She shakes her head trying to separate the violence she’d witnessed from what she thought she knew. Her rational brain had disconnected from her emotional one.</p>
  <p>While Ranna knew what clones were capable of it was different from actually seeing it. It was hard to separate the cadre of goons she was used to seeing leaning against her desk cracking jokes or trying her patience with bad pick up lines with the aggressive, capable trained men she’d seen tonight. It was like night and day. </p>
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  <p>Ranna’s heart skips thinking about the way Fox’s snarling had echoed in her head, how she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the man she knew to be controlled and self-restrained, how he had appeared to have gone completely feral. It was that moment when she’d bled back into the crowd and left. She wasn’t even entirely sure how she’d gotten home, having gone into autopilot.</p>
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  <p>Honestly, it scared her.</p>
  <p>After scrubbing her makeup off and running a brush through her tangled hair, Ranna moves into her small bedroom and slipped out of her clothes, letting the dress and jacket rest in a crumpled pile. A worry for tomorrow. Exhaustion is now her ruling emotion-and shame. Shame that she hadn’t followed Rule’s instructions.</p>
  <p>She wasn’t one of his men, she didn’t have to follow but she’d wanted to because even if what she saw scared her she knew he was doing it for her own good.</p>
  <p>Ranna crawls into bed in just a loose t-shirt and try not to think about how she’s going to deal with this new information this coming week.</p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The beginning of the week rolls around with new challenges, the least of which is the lingering stiffness Fox feels rolling out of bed. He wakes before his alarm and tries to work out the aches in a hot shower. He wants to get on his knees and thank the Maker for a private ‘fresher and never having to jockey with one of his men for the last of the hot water. It does wonders to relax the muscles that have seized up overnight. The bacta infusion in the wee hours of the previous morning hadn’t hurt much either. </p><p>As much as he’d voiced his displeasure, Wolffe had remained with him until medical had begrudgingly discharged him. </p><p>He wasn’t 100%, his ribs were still far more tender then he liked and the cut above his eye was barely fused together, but he knew if he spent any more time under the medics watchful eyes he was going to come out of his skin. His <em>Ori’vod</em> had come to bat for him and helped him back to his room after he’d convinced them to let him go.</p><p>The cross-eyed son of a nerf herder had also emptied his bottle of drink down the ‘fresher sink in front of him.</p><p>“I hear you haven’t been coping well.” </p><p>And just like that they were talking about CT-5555 and the incident and everything he’d have much rather let stew.</p><p>
  <em>vod’kyramund</em>
</p><p>That’s what the trooper from the 501st had called him. It cut. It bled and festered. It hurt. Wolffe listened as he relived the night in detail, exhaustion nipping at his heels with each word he spoke. But he knew he needed to do it. To say it. He’d never admitted his lingering confusion about everything leading up to the incident to another soul.</p><p>Fox had never met a brother with his blaster set to anything other than stun. It was his default setting in any situation. Like he’d always told his men, <em>you can’t interrogate the dead. </em></p><p>You also couldn’t go around shooting civvies without them distrusting you anymore then they already did. </p><p>He didn’t know how the blaster had been switched to lethal bolts. He didn’t remember when it could have happened. Damningly, he also didn’t remember reverifying the setting, something he always did before going out. Wolffe was the best set of ears he could have asked for. He didn’t say anything when Fox had to excuse himself to be sick.</p><p>Wolffe stayed until he’d fallen asleep, curling into him like they had as cadets during training. When he woke he was gone and so were the other three bottles of stock he kept squirreled away for emergencies. He’d cursed the other commander but knew why he’d done it. </p><p>It still didn’t mean he had to like it. </p><p>He’d allowed himself the luxury of sleep for the better part of the day, waking for the fresher and to make a memo to have Ranna pull up the incident report involving CT-5555. He needed to read it again if only to prove to himself that there was no other way for it to have ended, to find some sort of relief from the guilt that was gnawing at him. </p><p>He pushes Fives to the back burner and begins rounds on his men. He’d gotten the worst of it by far but the boys were feeling it. </p><p>Wren and Rule, his kits, both stumbled to the door to greet him with half a dozen questions. The pair had never been parted and hadn’t wanted to start when they’d been assigned quarters. Had he not looked back at their record, Fox would have thought them twins.</p><p>Thire had been less than happy to be woken up and Fox didn’t fault him for that, he sported a tender looking split lip and a black eye.</p><p>Ryk and Hound had greeted him, each far more chipperly then he felt appropriate. He left their rooms feeling a little disgruntled they weren’t as sore as he was. </p><p>He slept through the afternoon and into the evening. For the first time in a month and a half he didn’t dream about Fives.</p><p>He dreamt about his Little Mouse, the one who was not really <em>his</em>.</p><p>It wasn’t a dream he liked. He was merely swapping out one protagonist for the other in a nightmare where he was always the villain.</p><p>Pieces and parts were lost to him by the time he woke but, clear as can be, he can see himself holding his blaster, aiming center mass, as she held one shakingly at him. He’s yelling, the words lost to the sands of sleep, and tears stain her cheeks as she hiccups softly.</p><p>
  <em>“Fox… it’s me”</em>
</p><p>His finger is wrapped tight around the trigger. Safety off. He exerts just a little pressure as the blaster wobbles in her grip. Something purrs at him, curls around him, encourages him to <em>do it</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Fox…”</em>
</p><p>He wakes up as the blaster echoes in his head.</p><p>———</p><p>0700 on the dot, Commander Fox strides into the office. </p><p>Ranna can see the stiffness in his gait out of the corner of her eye. She's most definitely <em>not</em> looking because there's something <em>incredibly</em> interesting on the datapad in front of her. He doesn’t greet her and Ranna doesn’t offer one of her own. An impromptu apology almost spills from her mouth but she bites the inside of her cheeks to stop the flow of it.</p><p>His door slides shut with an almost inaudible hiss and Ranna melts into her seat. </p><p>An hour passes. </p><p>Then two. </p><p>Then three. </p><p>Then he’s leaving without so much as a tip of the helmet in her direction.</p><p>This was better, right? This is what needed to happen because she could not continue to harbor an ill advised crush on her superior. </p><p>But…</p><p>This was not what Ranna <em>wanted</em>. She <em>wanted</em> to see how he was fairing. She <em>wanted</em> to help him however she could. She <em>wanted</em> to forget about seeing him bloodied and remember the almost tender smile he’d gifted her when she'd leaned into him, or the way his hand felt guiding her through the crowd, fingers protectively spanning her lower back. Ranna had spent the day before in bed remembering what his attention had felt like, tending the spark of the flame that grew a little more in her belly each time she allowed herself to dwell on it. </p><p>The seconds tick by on the chrono, the office maddeningly silent as she waits for him to come back. She waits the rest of the day. Fox doesn’t return.</p><p>The next day a file request is flashing on her datapad. Ranna work's to pull up the case number and load it to the Commander’s datapad. </p><p>By 0900 he still has not arrived at the office. A comm down to dispatch informs her that Commander Fox would be accompanying the Chancellor to the Senate for the day.</p><p>Fox hated the Senate floor. He hated it more than he hated being stuck behind a desk with paperwork. </p><p>While outwardly Ranna knew all clones loyalty lay with the Republic. She couldn’t ignore the times she’d heard the Commander quietly lament the character of the Senators they were tasked with guarding. Very few passed the Commander’s high standards of honor and integrity. Bodyguard duty at the Senate was comparable to slow torture, the only task he’d happily pass on to one of his men without a second thought.</p><p>She'd always admired that about Fox. The fact that he rarely refused to put himself in a job within his men’s jurisdiction; from detention duty to traffic tickets to interdiction. Now though, the thought of him slotting into someone else's job is incredibly irritating - even more so when Wren stops by her desk with a cup of caf and a pastry, his bucket balanced precariously across his forearm.</p><p>“Yummy treats for a yummy girl.” </p><p>Ranna gives him a sour expression and he laughs, “come on Mouse, it’s funny. I’m cute, right?”</p><p>“Not nearly as much as you think.” She makes a point of not looking at him.</p><p>The Sargent makes a wounded sound while she takes the mug. He’s made it perfect and she can’t keep the stony expression on her face after the first sip goes down smoothly. A contented sigh escapes her lips.</p><p>“Gotcha!” He leans against the desk and she offers him a tired smile “Least I can do with the Commander leaving you all by your lonesome.”</p><p>Ranna nibbles at the pastry. It’s honey sweet and sticky, the buttery layers flake and crumbs stick to her fingers. </p><p>Each bite gets swallowed down with the smooth, strong caf he’s brought, likely from the pot in the speeder pool- where it was often insinuated it could be swapped with the high octane speeder fuel and no one would be the wiser.</p><p>“I didn’t realize the Commander was pulling protection detail this week” Ranna sniffs delicately, glancing at a report on her datapad as if she wasn't supremely curious.</p><p>“He wasn’t supposed too. he swapped with Hound.”  He reaches to snatch an uneaten piece of pastry and she slaps at his hand. He’s quicker and has it in his mouth before she had half a chance to snatch it back.</p><p>“Rude” she mutters lowly only earning a laugh.</p><p>“I’m glad you survived the other night with your good humor intact”  His face shows concern “we were all a bit worried about you. Rule nearly had a kittens.”</p><p>“I mean, it turned out fine. Right?”</p><p>“Mouse?” His fist bumps against her shoulder lightly and she looks up into an anxious face. “We’re all ok. It’s no big deal, ok? It happens sometimes. Too much booze and battle stress and-” Wren shrugs. His eyes scrutinize her face. His hand closes over hers, the gauntlet completely obscuring her smaller hand underneath. “You were scared, weren’t you?”</p><p>Maybe she had been. Maybe she hadn't. Ranna wasn't entirely sure. At the time it had been scary, yeah, but it wasn’t the Guards fault some drunk from the 501st wanted to start a fight. They were just protecting each other like they were <em>supposed</em> to. Maybe she was just more startled, that was probably it. Now, she just wanted to check in on Fox and make sure he was ok. </p><p>“I’m fine, Wren” She offers, what you hopes, is a convincing smile “I think.”</p><p>The buzzing of his comms interrupts anything he was preparing to say. Wren frowns as the both hear an all points coming through.</p><p>“I should probably head out” he offers another barely there love tap to her shoulder before he’s on his way.</p><p>Back to work, she pulls up the schedule for the rest of the week. While she works she pulls up the HNE news feed on a seperate screen. She listens, half-heartedly, as the reporter drones on listing off casualty statistics, making a point to seperate the numbers of clones and non clone GAR personnel, like one mattered more than the rest. </p><p>The segway into the next segment slides across the screen with a quick montage of popular - and not so popular - senators speaking - and sometimes shouting - on the senate floor.</p><p>
  <em>“And now in Senate new Chancellor Sheev Palpatine’s overriding vote came as a shock to the gathered assembly…”</em>
</p><p>The clip disappears into a video from today. Ranna freezes while she watches the Chancellor preside over the Senate. She tried to stay out of politics but something about Sheev Palpatine always put her off. It was his eyes. The politician’s smile never reached them.</p><p>She continues to watch, only half listening as the shot goes wide, panning out to show all of the Chancellor's podium. Her eyes travel to the Coruscant Guard standing protectively behind the Chancellor. Thire is at his right and- her chest tightens- Fox is on his left. She doesn’t hear anything about referendums or treaties or the rising anti-Republic sentiment. She just sees Fox.</p><p>———-</p><p>“Commander Fox. Come here”</p><p>Thire moves to take point as Fox falls back at the Chancellor’s request. “Is everything alright Chancellor.”</p><p>The old man waves dismissively, a smile pulling at his mouth. It makes Fox uncomfortable, “it’s fine. Everything’s fine, my friend. I wanted to have a word with you.”</p><p>Fox has never considered someone as influential as the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic to be a friend. The notion seemed wildly inappropriate like a tooka keeping a pet rancor. “Sir?”</p><p>“I sense something is burdening you, Commander.” The chancellor barely casts a glance toward him but Fox feels a prickle of something primal - sharp -  in his belly. It was silly. He supposed but he was a Shock Trooper, a commander in the Grand Army of the Republic. He didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve. He was the picture of military excellence. Unless he was slipping. He glances ahead at Thire as they make the turn to the Chancellor’s office. His <em>vod</em> doesn’t look back.</p><p>“Sir, I’m not-“ </p><p>Palpatine  waves a hand, “you are not in trouble Commander. I simply wonder if there is not some way I can advise you?”</p><p>The question hangs in the air. Fox lets his head continue to scan from side to side, eyes assessing the transparisteel lined wall as they enter the office. He hated that wall. It offered far too many opportunities for a sniper with the right kit and time to wait. </p><p>“Maybe this is about the traitor? The clone?” </p><p>Fox is quiet, his back ramrod straight. Thire glances at him from his spot by the door and Fox offers him a small nod before the lieutenant is taking up a sentry position outside the door. A smile plays at the chancellor’s lips.</p><p> “Or maybe it’s something different” Palpatine turns his attention to Fox and looks him over. The prickle in his gut gets worse, a biological warning that something wasn’t right. He feels like a bug under a microscope, about to be dissected by the smiling visage of the old man in front him. “Maybe a girl then?”</p><p>“Chancellor Palpatine, such things are expressly against regulation four-“ he’s interrupted from rattling off the exact regulation as the Chancellor sweeps away from him and toward the window, his robes flowing behind him. He stands against the window, the light around him casting him as a dark shadow.</p><p>“You are a man, are you not? Not just a meat covered droid as some would lead you to think. Clone or otherwise, it’s natural for you to desire. When this war is over I feel we will see a dawning of a new era. Have you thought about what will become of you after the Separatists are defeated?”</p><p>Of course he’s thought about it. Any clone who’d say otherwise was a liar. Some looked at the future with fear and apprehension, others a sense of hope, some only with mild curiosity. That being said he wasn’t about to admit to any of that to the chancellor.</p><p>“It hadn’t crossed my mind”</p><p>Palpatine turns, narrows his eyes. It’s just a minute twitch that Fox is scarcely sure he’s seen before it disappears, melts back into the serene expression he typically wore.</p><p>“I suppose I will stay on with the GAR if they’ll have me.” He relents, “or find a civilian defense contract.”</p><p>“And what of family? I know you clones hold the term of brother, of <em>vod</em>,” it sounds like a dirty word coming from his mouth, “close to your hearts. Do you want for more?”</p><p>The Chancellor’s eyes bore into him, searching, prodding for something that Fox can’t understand. He tries to sound light as he speaks as if the line of questioning wasn’t sending up so many warning signals. “I don’t think the Senate would approve of their weapons starting families.”</p><p>Palpatine gives him a grin, it’s devoid of warmth, lifeless. More  of an impression of a smile, meant to be inviting but only working to raise the hairs on the back of Fox’s neck . “Dear boy,” he offers an encompassing sweep of the hand and a light tone “I am the Senate.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Stars above… your face-“</p><p>It’s not the first thing Fox wanted to hear from the woman he was interested in. He sighs inwardly as Ranna steps further into his office. The look on her face is aghast and… concerned.</p><p> She sets the mug of caf and a datapad down without much thought. It takes quick reflexes to keep the ‘pad from slipping off the edge of the desk. Ranna’s eyes never leave his face. His bucket is off to the side and he contemplates putting it back on to escape her scrutiny. </p><p>“C-Commander Fox…” it’s soft, tender in a way that makes his stomach knot. Her fingers hover in mid-air between them as she gestures toward his eye.</p><p> In reality, it didn’t look <em>that</em> bad. He’d had much worse. It had looked <em>galaxies </em>worse a day ago. The laceration across his brow had fused together nicely and was covered in a small, neat scab. The bruising was still not great but, with the help of bacta spray, it was quickly fading from purple to green. Even the sickly green was now beginning to yellow at the edges. By the end of the week it would be gone entirely. The way Ranna is looking at him, he’d have thought he’d lost the eye entirely and not been informed by the medstaff.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” Her hand drops to her side as if she’s suddenly realized that she’d nearly been touching him. It balls into a fist as she presses it against her hip. </p><p>“Barely.” he answers gruffly, “the ribs are worse. Harder to put bacta on” he explains.</p><p>Pretty pink lips press into a firm line as she nods. He’d spent the first half of the week not speaking to her and wanting to say everything he had on his mind. Now that he was talking to her he didn’t know where to steer the conversation. The feeling seems mutual as her shoe scuffs at the worn carpeting.</p><p>“I got the files you requested.” She says pointing absently to the forgotten datapad. He glances down between that and the caf. He ignores the datapad for the mug, taking a long drink of the caf. It was perfect - black and sweet, no cream. How did she know him so well?</p><p>“Thank you, Mouse. I’ll have a look at it later.” She chews her lip, white teeth peeking out to press distractingly into her full lower lip. He wonders idly if she realizes she’s even doing it, what a tell it was?  “Credit for your thoughts?”</p><p>She shakes her head, “No sir. I had just worried about you- after the other night.”</p><p>“I’m good, Ranna. Thank you.”</p><p>“That’s- that’s good.”</p><p>This whole thing is ridiculously awkward. It’s like two people who’ve never met before chatting about the weather. Maybe it had been a far off hope to think that things would change after the other night when she’d actively shown an interest. He remembers the booth fondly, when she’d fit against him so perfectly. If he strains he can remember the soft scent of her shampoo- citrusy and sweet - over the smell of booze and smoke that permeated the air in 79’s. Or maybe he was just making an elaborate fantasy out of nothing.</p><p>“If you don’t need anything else, Commander?” He’d been caught drifting. Ranna motions with a tilt of her head toward the door.</p><p>Yeah, he needed something alright, a good solid kick in the <em>shebs</em> to get him in gear and to do something.</p><p>“Nothing now Mouse. You’re dismissed” </p><p>She stands frozen for a second as if she’d been waiting for him to say something else. Fox racks his brain for anything. He was smarter than this. He’d been trained by the best the galaxy had to offer. He-</p><p>“Order some lunch for us around noon” the words tumble out as she’s nearly to the door and he works hard to weave some plan of action together based on what he’s just said. “Whatever sounds like something good.”</p><p>Ranna doesn’t turn around, “who is us, sir?” </p><p>“I figured you and I could have lunch. Maybe to make up for my rudeness the last few days?” He feels his confidence creeping back as she turns.</p><p>“Commander, that’s not-“</p><p>“It’s very necessary.” He asserts sternly, his face says it all. He wasn’t going to let her slip out of it. ’<em>No’</em> wasn’t an option. She waivers in the doorway as if she was weighing her odds in arguing further. Her eyes drift to him and she must realize that there’s no use.</p><p>“Yes, sir”</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p>The food comes shortly before noon. Ranna pays and tips the disinterested twi’lek delivering it and sets it on her desk before making for the small half ‘fresher just outside the office. She lets the door slide shut and studies herself in the mirror. Dark, nervous eyes peer back.</p><p>This was completely ridiculous, she thinks, fingering at the few stray hairs that have slipped from her bun, making an effort to twist and slide them back into place.</p><p>She checks her teeth to make sure no remnants of breakfast are hiding between them, after which a quick breathe check into her hands to make sure that she didn’t have bantha breath. Standing back up she squares her shoulders and practices a smile.</p><p>“<em>Why thank you, Fox</em>” Ranna attempts to sound sweet but all she can hear Is the tension in her voice. She deflates. <em>Kriff</em>. It was best just to get this over with. It was just lunch. The same thing she’d done with Ryk and Rule and Wren. It was fine. This was <em>fine</em>.</p><p>She grabs the bags and slips through the door. Commander Fox looks up from whatever work was preoccupying him and smiles when he sees her.</p><p>“Thank the Maker” he mumbles, “I’m starving.” </p><p>Ranna laughs. It still sounds nervous so she bites her tongue and holds back, not saying anything, instead focusing on pulling different containers out of the bag and setting them out. Fox sniffs the air.</p><p>“Do I smell- is that nerf steak?” There’s something almost excitable about the way he says it. Ranna bites back a smile as she pushes a container towards him. He only seems to grow more giddy when he opens it to find fried protato wedges. </p><p>After pulling out her own container, she reaches in to retrieve a small flimsy wrapped parcel from the bottom of the bag. Red striped butchers twine binds the parcel shut. A quick tug and it unravels. Fox’s eyes go wide and a smile spreads from ear to ear. It’s the enthusiasm of a bright-eyed child. </p><p>“Uj cake? That’s my favorite. How did you know?”</p><p>Ranna glances down shyly, biting back a smile of her  own. The cake is set off to the side as she turns her attention to her own meal and opens the container. It’s a nice looking salad, green and full of all sorts of things that she’s sure is very healthy. It had sounded perfectly acceptable when she’d ordered. But now the smell of nerf steak and protatos is drifting in the air and her stomach gurgles excitedly.</p><p>“I try to pay attention and remember when I hear something important”</p><p>“The fact I like nerf and uj is important?” He seems amused as she adds dressing to her salad. Ranna shrugs.</p><p>“It is to me.”</p><p>Ranna can feel him studying her but patently refuses to look up. A moment later she hears him pick up his utensils and tuck into his meal. Silence spans between them only sprinkled with the sounds of cutlery and the occasional happy groan from the Commander. Ranna glances up, peering through lowered lashes to catch him smiling down at the neatly sliced meat. His eyes dart up and catch hers. She’s trapped there in the rich browns.</p><p>He glances down at the lunch In front of her and frowns. “Bantha fodder?” His voice is laced with mirth as Ranna makes a sour face. Fox holds up his hands in peace, “if you like it Little Mouse, that’s all that matters. But” he he stabs a small bite of steak with his fork, “maybe you’d like to try this?”</p><p>“Commander- I couldn’t”</p><p>“First of all, you can. Second, it’s just you and I alone. You know it’s Fox.”</p><p>Ranna feels her cheeks flush as heat flows into them. Fox wiggles the fork like he’s trying to entice a fish onto a hook. </p><p>“You know you want to.”</p><p>“Oh for kriff sake…” She leans forward and snatches the fork from him, taking the bite. </p><p>It’s good.</p><p>It’s really, really good and she can’t help the happy sound she makes, completely ruining any attempt to feign exasperation with the pushy Commander. Fox smirks confidently as she hands it back.</p><p>“Get over yourself” Ranna grumbles and Fox barks out a laugh. </p><p>The salad isn’t nearly as satisfying after but she finishes it, making small talk between bites.</p><p>“I’m sorry about the other night” he says suddenly after a lull in the conversation. His voice has softened with the apology. That was something she hadn’t expected. Nor did she need it. It wasn’t Fox’s fault at least from what she’d ascertained. He’d been pushed to it. He’d never shown her blood soaked aggression and Ranna knew, in her heart, that he never would.</p><p>“I don’t want you to apologize for something you had no control over.” </p><p>The wry smile she’s come to adore plays at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t think I could have talked my way out of that? de-escalated things?”</p><p>“With all do respect? No.”</p><p>He laughs then, full bodied and without restraint. It leaves her feeling warm all over and offering a shy smile.</p><p>“I guess I’ve got some convincing to do”</p><p>The uj cake is a small thing, perfect for one person. She’d  ordered it as an afterthought remembering hearing a visiting Commander reminisce about training and a Sargent named Skirata who’d given them some as cadets. She unwraps the loose flimsy into a neat little makeshift plate and pushes it toward Fox. “What kind of convincing would that be?”</p><p>He slices the cake in half, “that my powers of persuasion are still top of the line.” </p><p>Ranna watches his hand travel to his mouth as he takes a bite. He looks like he’s in heaven. His eyes drift shut as he chews slowly than swallows. A low groan escapes him as his eyes flutter open, “do you realize how long it’s been? would you like some?”</p><p>That warm feeling is changing, shifting into something else, sparking low in the pit of her stomach. More than butterflies. It leaves her feeling a need that she didn’t want to put a name too. Nodding silently, she lets her tongue slip out to wet her lips.  Suddenly, he mouth is horribly dry.</p><p><br/>Fox cuts off a small bite and holds it out only to yank it away when her hand reaches for it. He does it a second time and offers a chuckle as Ranna lets out an irritated grunt. The third time he holds it just a little higher. Ranna’s heart flutters wildly, like a caged bird desperate to escape.</p><p>“Take the bite, Little Mouse” his voice has dipped enticingly low and his playful eyes are now dark and full of something she can’t decipher.</p><p>Rising to her feet, Ranna leans across the desk, not far but closer to where he’s holding the bite of cake. Her hands flatten against the smooth duraplast surface to balance the shift in weight. She opens her mouth as he places the morsel on her tongue. His thumb grazes gently against her bottom lip as he pulls away and she chews. </p><p>“That’s a good girl” he offers in a low rumble that puts her whole body on a delightful edge.</p><p>Ranna has never had uj before but she’s sure the syrupy, spicy dessert could quickly become one of her favorites; except she can’t focus on the bits of nut and chewy dried fruit in her mouth because she’s far too busy staring at Fox (who seems equally focused on staring at her). She feels branded, the sensation of his thumb across her lower lip burned into her very DNA. Her body is tingling and your brain races to catch up.</p><p>“Another?” </p><p>“Yes, please.”</p><p>Fox repeats the process. A bite for him. A bite for her. </p><p>“Little Mouse” he says affectionately as she chewS the bite he’s just fed her, “I don’t want you to keep running away from me.”  There’s a vulnerability there that she can recognize and appreciate. <em>Want</em>. That word was not something a clone was allowed to have in their vocabulary. They weren’t allowed to have wants or desires, to enjoy uj cakes and-</p><p>“I don’t want too but what if-“</p><p>“I don’t want to worry about those either. I want- you always look out for me- I want to…” he trails off rising to his feet and Ranna moves around the desk to meet him as he moves closer. He takes a step into her space and waits. Ranna’s hands close the gap and press against the white plates across his chest.</p><p>“I’m going to kiss you now.” It’s not a question but a statement. Even then he waits a moment, letting his hands come to rest on her hips before he leans down.</p><p>Rising up on toes, she meets him in the middle. The first touch is brief, a fumbling press of lips as she loses balance and falls back to the flats of her feet, but the spark is there. Her whole body is already buzzing as his grip tightens on her hips and a ragged breath slips from him.</p><p>“Again.” He murmurs, so quietly, she’s not sure if he’s speaking to her or himself. Her eyes fall to his mouth and she nodS, wetting her lips.</p><p>This time her balance doesn’t waiver. One arm slips over an armored shoulder while the other presses flat to his cheek. It’s a sweet kiss, a tender press that leaves her aching for more. Warmth washes over her in waves, settling low in her belly as Fox pulls back ever so slightly to gaze down searchingly. The next second he’s reeling her back in, his mouth slanting over hers. now more hungry.</p><p>The intensity of it and the way her body reacts startles her. It’s as if the dam has let loose and they’ve  both been thrown suddenly into the chaotic waters. Ranna’s knees buckle but Fox gathers her close, holding her up. The space between them no longer exists as one of his hands splays across her lower back to keep her pressed tightly against him.</p><p>The fine stubble along his cheek, almost unnoticeable to the eye, feels coarse underneath her flexing fingers. Sensation overwhelms.</p><p>There was nothing cool, or efficient about the way their lips moved against one another. No calculation or plan, just the near desperate press of two people who’d been rotating in the same atmosphere for far to long. The pull to him has always been magnetic. Since day one, her eyes have always followed his movements but she’d thought it was only a silly infatuation. How had he hidden the man that she kissed now for so long? </p><p>Ranna nips his lip as he tries to pull back, worrying it gently between her teeth. Fox growls- honest to Force - the sound rumbles in the back of his throat, the feeling of it is unmistakable. He surges forward again. His tongue traces along her lips and she opens for for him with a soft moan. If she doesn’t have bruises on her hip later she’ll be shocked but she doesn’t care because Fox’s tongue is dancing with hers. He tastes like spicy, sweet uj cake and she thinks maybe now she can go ahead and claim it as her favorite.</p><p>“Fox-” Ranna mumbles feeling half drunk from his kisses. Her hand slides from his cheek to the back of his head. He purrs as her nails drag along his scalp.</p><p>“Precious girl-“ he murmurs, peppering feather light kisses along her jaw, working to open-mouthed ones when he leans down into her neck. She tips her head offering him consent to further nuzzle into the soft flesh. Teeth graze against her skin and she shudders in his grasp. This was it. He was going to be the death of her and she wasn’t even going to care.</p><p>Her eyes flutter shut as a klaxon sounds overhead forcing them to jump back open. She squirms out of his grasp and the pair stare at each other. Fox is panting, his eyes only half focused.</p><p>“<em>Commander Fox, Lieutenant  Thire requests your immediate back-up on level 1313</em>”</p><p>The commander takes a deep breath and shakes his head roughly before answering his man, “what’s going on Ryk?”</p><p>Ranna takes the opportunity to catch her breath, her fingers casually running over the tingling kisses he’d left along her neck. His eyes follow the slow movement and he looks nothing if not supremely satisfied with his work.</p><p>“<em>Sir, we have possible sentient trafficking. Confirmed hostage situation. It’s big sir</em>.”</p><p>Ryk has said the buzzwords and Fox is moving for his helmet and checking the twin deeces over quickly before sliding them back into the holsters over his kama.</p><p>“ETA fifteen minutes” he confirms over comms.</p><p>“<em>ETA fifteen confirmed</em>”</p><p>She’s started cleaning up the leftovers (he didn’t leave any) and used utensils from the desk, willing her heart to slow and the fire in her belly to fizzle out. Fox’s hand wraps around her upper arm gently, turning her toward him.</p><p>“We’re not done.” His voice has a gravel to it that is enticing and stokes the smoldering remnants back into a bright flame. “After this is done, your place or mine?”</p><p>“Mine.” She answers  automatically.</p><p>“It might be late-”</p><p>“I don’t care” because now she <em>wants</em> too. Ranna wants to find out where this attraction would lead. </p><p>It’s ill-advised. </p><p>It’s reckless. </p><p>She doesn’t care. Fox grins as he leans down to steal another kiss. It’s just a quick graze of his lips over hers but it speaks of promises.</p><p>“Ok then, <em>yours</em>”</p><p>Ranna watches him stride away and a thrill travels down her back. This couldn’t end well but she was beyond caring.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fox had never thought himself a slave. His training on Kamino had drilled into his head that he was a vital asset in the Grand Army of the Republic’s war to end tyranny and bring freedom to the galaxy. </p><p>The fact that he had so little freedom never really occurred to him early on in his deployment. He was excited to be on Coruscant, a Commander in the GAR with a prestigious assignment. It was a shiny’s wet dream. But time, like it was want to do, had slowly begun to erode the ideal he’d grown to accept as law. </p><p>He had doubts now and in his line of work doubts led to trouble. There could only be black and white. Shades of grey were of no use. But Fox saw all the tones and hues of what he did every day in vivid color. If he had no choice in his lot, if the GAR was his only purpose, the only thing he’d ever been destined for, did that make him a slave? Even if he believed in what he did he didn’t have a choice. Was he not valued because of who he was, only what he was? The thoughts were beginning to become more frequent. How much free will did he actually have?</p><p>A tiny hand taps at his bucket and he looks down at the tiny sprite of a twi’lek child in his arms. Her skin is pale green and her eyes the same color but a far brighter, more vivid shade. She smiles shyly and shows him her tooka doll for the third time, making it dance merrily in front of his visor before she presses it where she must have assumed his mouth to be and made a kissing sound. </p><p>He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “yes, it’s a very cute kitty.” She smiles brightly. He wonders if she knows what she’s been rescued from and how she’s managed to be so trusting of him in such a short time.</p><p>Around him other members of the guard are playing babysitter to various younglings. Thire has a young zabrak boy in front of him who seems eternally delighted by the other commanders’ magna-cuffs, his eyes going wide each time they snapped open or clinked shut.</p><p>Ryk sits off to the side, bucket off and back pressed against the wall. He holds two human children, they’re grubby and thin and sleep restlessly in his arms, tiny heads resting on his shoulders, so exhausted the hard plastoid doesn’t seem to phase them. He catches Fox’s eye and shakes his head angrily, rage bubbling at what had been done to the children in their custody. The little girl clutches at his vambrace, even across the room Fox can see her knuckles tight and white in her sleep. </p><p>Wren stands nearby talking quietly to Togruta women, barely more than a girl, who’s holding a squirming toddler in her arms. He takes notes as he asks questions. Her face is serious and pale. It holds a knowledge of experienced cruelty beyond her years and Fox tries not to think of what she’s seen or how long she’s been with the traffickers. Or where the child in her arms came from.</p><p>From what he knows of the victims all were without families. Orphans were easy targets for the traffickers. All of them had been marked for sale by the slavers. </p><p>Two male Trandoshans and a human female had been collecting this batch for an upcoming flesh sale. The thought made Fox’s skin crawl. The little one in his arms yawns and nestles against his shoulder. Me’kar, that’s what the Togeuta had said the little girl’s name was but he knew embarrassingly little Ryl and the little one knew no basic, so he had to take the girl’s word on it. </p><p>The insertion and detention of the suspects had been surprisingly easy given the nature of their business. Each had been detained with minimal effort and carted off for further questioning and booking procedures leaving Fox and his men to wait for the attendants from one of the district children’s homes to retrieve their new charges. </p><p>Fox finds he likes the feel of the child in his arms. He’s never held one before but she’d been wide-eyed and scared and scooping her up had seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe it was genetics. He’d heard that the Mandalorian desire for <em>aliit</em>, family,  did not stop at blood relations alone and that many houses and tribes had grown through adoption. It could be said that the desire for younglings was written in his DNA, but he’d never been put in a position to recognize the longing for what it was. </p><p>What it was, was something to ponder later. He bounces and hums small snippets of songs for little Me’kar as she becomes restless and he spins in slow circles until she stills. He dances the tooka around and turns the tables on her, making the stuffed animal kiss her on the nose. He absolutely <em>does not</em> make the kissing noise and his <em>vode </em>absolutely ignore the noise he <em>is not</em> making.</p><p>They wait over an hour after dispatch makes the call, children and clones all exhausted from the late hour and the trials of the day. A speeder finally makes landing on the small platform. A short round woman who looks nearly as wide as she is tall gets out. Her face is layered with wrinkles but, Fox found, her eyes were soft and she looked at the spread of children with sympathy. It put him at ease for though he’d only just met her he thought he’d have had difficulty handing little Me’kar off to anyone else.</p><p>The human children tuck into the zabrak boy as the attendant slowly herds them toward the waiting speeder. The Togruta with the baby follows. When it’s her turn, Me’kar clings to his armor with the strength of a baby rathtar. The sound that she makes as he hands her off to the attendant makes him reach out for her but Thire is at his side pushing his hand down.</p><p>“I know, <em>Fox’ika</em>” he offers softly “I know. This is how it has to be <em>ner vod</em>”</p><p>He appreciates Thire. What would he have done with a child even if he’d been allowed to take her in? Sneak her into the barracks? Hide her like a stray, pet? No. That wasn’t a life for a child. A child should have more. A child deserved a family and love. A child deserved understanding and time. He couldn’t provide any of that.</p><p>
  <em>We weren’t given any of that.</em>
</p><p>Anger swells up in him as they begin to disperse to their speeder bikes. Swinging a leg over the fuselage he steadies himself as he slips his bucket back into place, the HUD displays lighting up as it seals. He takes a moment to look for an opening then eases into a traffic lane. </p><p>——-</p><p>GAR issued speeders were a thing of beauty, extra power and better maneuverability made a man feel invincible. He’s happy to feel, to be alive, as he banks into a turn and rises up slowly through the lanes until he’s heading toward Mouse’s apartment. The HUD offers him directions that he readily accepts. He lets himself go into autopilot, following the signals as they are given.</p><p> Mouse didn’t have a family. He knows because he’s been through her personnel file with a fine-toothed comb; first when she was assigned to him and second (and more shamefully) after he’d begun to have a more than professional interest in her. There’s no emergency contact in her file. No next of kin to receive her benefits in case of her demise. Her security clearance, top secret because of the nature of her employment, showed no loving family interviewed during her background check.</p><p>He wonders if she had known a mother and father or had she always been, like him, without the gift of either always. Did she want a family, children, a life outside of the quiet one she led now?</p><p>The Chancellor had told him was allowed to want, to <em>desire</em>, but now he feels like that’s all he can think of. It’s like the floodgates have been lifted and he’s at the mercy of the torrent of what’s been released.</p><p>By the time he parks the speeder at the landing platform of her building he’s so full of questions that lack answers that he’s scarcely sure his brain has room for anything else.</p><p>Then he gets to her door and knocks. </p><p>It slides open a few minutes later and she’s leaning against the frame with a sleepy smile on her face.</p><p>Fox glances at the HUD and sees the time. It was hours past anytime he thought he’d come and he’s woken her up.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mouse-“</p><p>The soft smile doesn’t leave her face as she shakes her head. She’s wearing a pale pink nightgown with a delicate lace trim. The urge to reach out and rub it between his fingers is strong. She must see the way he’s hesitating because she grabs his hands and pulls him in.</p><p>“It’s ok.” </p><p>Everything about her right now screams comfort in a way no woman ever has. He’s no innocent moon-calf. He’s had his share of female company. One night stands and that one time in the dark corner of 79’s. This is different. He doesn’t want to do something wrong. He doesn’t want whatever happens to be one and done. Relationships were blatantly spelled in the code of conduct. You didn’t have them. But right now Fox thinks it’s a <em>di’kutla</em> rule if he’s ever heard one and he wants to throw it out.</p><p>“Commander?” There’s a playful lilt to her voice as the door slides shut behind him.</p><p>He smiles under his bucket and it stays firmly in place as he releases the seal with a soft whoosh of air. She backs into the room and he follows, tossing the helmet onto the couch as the room opens into a tiny living area.</p><p>“Mouse, what have I told you?” </p><p>“Fox” she corrects shyly, biting at the side of her lip. </p><p>“That’s a girl” her cheeks seem to grow pinker with his praise and he files that interesting little tidbit away. “I’ve had a long night. I’m sorry I woke you.”</p><p>“No more apologies, yeah? I didn’t care what time you came. I just-“</p><p>“Just what?”</p><p>“Just wanted to see you.” The admission is like music to his ears and it makes him want more. Normal people got to come home to their companions everyday. He loved his <em>vode</em>, would lay down his life for them if necessary, but that feeling was remarkably different from what he felt now. “Fox, you’re thinking awfully hard.” She teases.</p><p>“Maybe you could help me stop?”</p><p>Her hip cocks out to the side as she presses her hand against it. She watches him with a raised brow. Her nightgown skims high on her thigh. Yeah, he can imagine coming home to this, like he was normal and there wasn’t a war raging that he likely wouldn’t live through.</p><p> He takes a step toward her then another. Her tongue traces along her top teeth as he uses a gauntlet to knock her hand off her hip and replace it with his own. </p><p>She’s such a sweet girl he has a hard time maintaining composure and moving slowly when her eyes flutter shut and she rises up on bare feet to place a chaste kiss to his lips.</p><p>“Precious girl.” Her murmurs as she smiles contentedly up at him as she pulls back. His lips press dryly against her forehead, “help me take all this off?”</p><p>Nodding silently, she begins working at his armor, removing each piece from its magnetic fittings with a delicate touch. It’s so… domestic. He lets his eyes slip shut and imagines what it must be like for the average Coruscanti coming home to their partner, how they must not even realize what kind of magic was in small moments and interactions. They probably took things for granted. He wouldn’t. He would file everything away in a nearly perfect eidetic memory. </p><p>When he opens his eyes he takes in the sweet woman in front of him, the one quietly focused on removing his pauldrons, separating the chest plate, removing his gloves. She sets each piece carefully on the couch behind her.</p><p>“You’ve done this before?” Relief washes over him when she shakes her head. Something about that silent admission makes him feel smug. </p><p>
  <em>Just for me. Mine.</em>
</p><p>“I just pay attention.” Her deft fingers have peeled away all the plastoid from his chest up and she begins working at the Kama around his waist. She peeks up through dark lashes and Fox can see the nervous glint in her eyes. “If I do something wrong-“</p><p>“-I don’t think you’re capable of it” he answers honestly. His hand strokes over her hair. It’s like spun silk. he could run his fingers through it for hours and not get bored of the feel of it. </p><p>His hand slides under her jaw, cupping her chin gently. “You don’t need to do anything, do you understand?” She nods slowly.</p><p>“But I want to.” </p><p>A smile pulls at his mouth, “what do you see in me? Why do you do what you do?”</p><p>Mouse pauses as the kama drops to the ground. He doesn’t let her escape to grab it. He can see her chewing over her words, thinking about each one as she says it.</p><p>“You are important to me in a way I don’t think I can explain. In a way I haven’t felt before.” Her cheeks brighten as she speaks but she makes no attempt to shake off his hand. “I- I want to make life easier for you. I want to take care of you and help you in any way I can.”</p><p>He wants to take care of her as well, to protect her from the things that could hurt her, to make her comfort his priority. Things he’s expressly forbidden from doing. “But why Mouse?” He wants more from her; he wants everything she’ll give him even if he has to work for it. Her voice is only a hair above a whisper when she speaks.</p><p>“Because I care about you.” The soft admission breaks something in him. Fox leans down and slants his mouth over hers. She freezes but for a second. Then she’s responding, pressing up into his arms. He swallows down the heated sound she makes as her arms band around his neck. There are so many things he wants to tell her, foolish things that can’t end well for either of them. Instead he tries to pour what he’s feeling into the slide of his lips, the press of his hands at her waist. Her nightgown is thin. He can feel her trembling through it as his tongue licks at the seam of her mouth. She opens willingly.</p><p>Fox is greedy. The taste of her has been in the back of his mind since he’d first had it earlier in the day. He swallows the fervent  sounds she makes as his hands slide down over her hips, to the back of her thighs to the cool skin he finds. <em>Soft</em>. So soft, everything about her is an awakening. His hands slide up and under her nightgown, stroke along the fabric of lacy panties as he cups her bottom. His Mouse makes lovely sounds as he kneads the flesh he finds, pressing into him because, like him, she wants more too.</p><p><em>More</em>.</p><p>It’s a single word mantra that’s stuck on repeat through his head. She’s incredibly light as he uses his grip to lift. Legs wrap around his waist and he pulls back just enough to look for a bedroom door. Mouse nuzzles against the side of his neck laying out line after line of feather-light kisses and nips that have Fox feeling dizzy and so turned on he can scarcely keep his wits about it.</p><p>“Bedroom.” It comes out as a low growl and she points to a door to his left. One hand leaves its hold on her ass and tangles into the hair at the base of her skull, he pulls lightly. She arches against him but allows herself to be pulled back to look at him.</p><p>Mouse’s pupils are blown wide, lips are swollen, cheeks are pink and full of life.</p><p>“Tell me you want this, Mouse. Tell me you need this. If you don’t, we don’t move from this spot.” She pulls trying to lean forward and kiss him. “No” it comes out gravelly, “use your words. I need to hear it.”</p><p>She makes a plaintive sound, a whine that destroys him just a little but doesn’t break his resolve entirely. But she could. That is a scary thought, one that he seals away.</p><p>“I want you. Pl-Please, Fox” she manages “I need to feel you.”</p><p>Fox loosens his grip and she presses against him, taking over control of the kiss while he half focuses on getting them both in the bedroom. </p><p>It’s a small room but cozy enough though the finer details are lost on him at the moment. She has a bed larger than his own and for that he’s thankful. Leaning over it, he presses her back down into the mattress. Mouse doesn’t want to disentangle her legs and he gives her a gentle swat on the thigh to encourage her along. She mewls softly and he can’t help but cock his head as she looks up at him, hair fanned out around her, another thing stored away for later use.</p><p>She watches with lust drunk eyes as he makes quick work of the remaining armor. It’s tossed half-hazardly to the side before he begins to pull at his blacks. Everything comes off, he has no urge to fumble with boxer briefs from this point forward. His little mouse is propped on her elbows and her eyes don’t seem to know where to look, they travel from his face, to his chest, down to the unbearably hard length standing proudly for her. Her attention is intoxicating.</p><p>“Fox” </p><p>One knee slips between hers as he moves to the bed, the mattress dips under his weight. She tries to pull at the hem of her nightgown but his hands clamp over hers.</p><p>“Let me.” He purrs softly. An arm loops around her lower back, pulling her up. Instinctively her arms loop around his neck. Unlike his own clothes, Fox takes his time letting his hand slide over the front of her gown, rubbing the hard peaks of her nipples through the fabric, and enjoying the soft whimpers it draws from her before sliding further and rucking the fabric up and over her hips. He hums to himself as the lace clings to her center, a damp patch forming where he was most ready to be.  He lets his thumb graze gently against the fabric and she arches up sighing when he offers more friction. His thumb finds the tiny bundle of nerves at the top of her sex and rubs small even strokes over it. His previous partners had given him invaluable opportunity to learn and he’s intent to use all of that knowledge to slowly take his little mouse apart.</p><p>“Fox-“ the gasp leaves her lips and he glances up at her desperate expression.</p><p>“Shh, <em>cyar’ika</em>.” He coos softly, “I’m going to take care of you.” She nods softly before letting her body fall back against the bed. </p><p>Fox abandons his exploration for a moment to fully pull the nightgown off her body. Greedy brown eyes rack over her skin, taking in her round, full breasts topped with dusky pink nipples before moving down to her soft tummy. Her skin contrasts with the deep tan of his own. He marvels over the differences. He can’t help himself as he leans over her and places soft kisses near her navel, nose gently nuzzling at the skin as he does, breathing in the scent of barely there floral soap and arousal.</p><p>Fingers rake through his hair and he groans softly at the light sensation of blunted nails against his scalp. He continues to trail kiss down, eating up the sweet sounds he hears. Achingly soft whimpers and sighs encourage each move he makes. Fox uses the intel to form his plan of action, ever the good soldier. </p><p>He uses his knee to nudge her wide and positions himself in the cradle of her thighs, propped on his elbows for support. He kisses along the waistband of her panties and she squirms, giggling as his tongue traces the line of flesh immediately above the fabric.</p><p>“Tickles…” she manages out breathlessly. Fox wonders if she can feel him grinning against her. “Please Fox- just- just take them off already.”</p><p>“I want to savor this, precious girl.”</p><p>“And you can, once you get rid of these stupid things.” She raises her hips temptingly. Fox nips at her in retribution but even he could only handle so much. His fingers loop into the waistband and he slides them down as he sits back on his heels. His thumbs drag along the inside of her legs as he pulls them down, finally slipping them over her feet and discarding them. </p><p>She is completely bare for him now and he takes a moment to appreciate her flushed body in front of him. They’ve barely begun and she’s already breathing erratically. He’d be lying if he said he felt in that much more control, he’s just hiding it well. Leaning in, he lays a trail of kisses from her inner knee up along her thigh, stopping to suck dark circles when she squirms too much. His hand comes to lay across her hips holding her in place. </p><p>“Hold still, Mouse. Let me enjoy myself” he chastises playfully sitting back again. He can feel his own need throb painfully and he palms himself, pressing firmly just to take off the edge. His pretty girl lets out a ragged sob. Fox catches her eyes watching him. He wraps his hand around his length and strokes slowly.</p><p>“I wanna touch” she whines softly. </p><p>Fox feels a smug grin split his face. “Not yet. Want to take care of you first” he gives himself a few lazy pumps before he lets go. Mouse’s eyes stare up at the ceiling and he can see her trying to pull herself together. </p><p>It’s cute that she thinks he’s going to let her. </p><p>Shoulders wedge between her thighs easing her open for him as he settles onto his stomach. The red marks along her thighs are already beginning to blossom. <em>Mine</em>, that instinctive voice inside of him growls and Fox can’t help but whisper the word as he admires the glistening slickness that coats her folds. One finger teases gently along the line of her sex until it’s just as slick. He lets the finger continue to stroke lightly up and down her folds before finally relenting to the desperate sounds that are beginning to flow from her and slipping it between them, parting her. “So fucking pretty” the words slip out without a thought. She blooms under his touch, all pretty pink and glistening with dew. Fox leans in and lets the  tip on his tongue taste her. Mouse gasps softly and he has to press his hand down hard to keep her from canting her hips. This is as much for him as it is for her.</p><p>She tastes exquisite, subtly sweet. It makes him want to bury his face in her cunt and lick and suck til he’s had his fill. He takes another swipe, slowly with the flat of his tongue from the base of her sex up to the swollen nub at the top. She shudders as he laps gently at her clit. He focuses attention on the quiet gasps she makes, the soft sighs, the moans that roll out of her. He takes her clit into his mouth and sucks lightly, alternating with the gentle flick of his tongue. He can feel the tension building in her muscles as her hands slip down to his head and desperately scrabble for purchase. </p><p>One finger slides slowly into the wet heat of her center and Fox can feel her thighs begin to tremble. He pumps slowly, in tandem with his oral ministrations. Working to find a harmonious balance as he drives her closer to her edge. </p><p>“Right there… Fox… so good-“ she mewls as he adds a second finger and lets them both sink down to his knuckles. He crooks them as if inviting her to come here. His precious girl goes quiet and he looks up to see her head thrown back and her breasts rising and falling as she pants silently.</p><p>He grinds himself down against the bed. His cock aches to be buried inside her, to claim her. The sight of her body, all ready, working up a thin sheen of sweat is heady. He’s done that to her. What other lovers had done would never matter again because he was going to wreck her for anyone who’d ever dare come after. </p><p>“Feel good, <em>cyar’ika</em>? Are you ready to let go?” He questions against her heated flesh. Mouse moans incomprehensible. “Use your words.” He demands redoubling his efforts to lap at her clit, adding more pressure and speed as he feels her inner muscles grow tight, clamp down on his fingers.</p><p>“So- so close… I- I’m gonna-“</p><p>Fox growls barely pulling away from her. “Come for me. Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”</p><p>Mouse comes with a keening moan and his name on her lips, even with her thighs pressed tight to his ears he can hear the sweet sounds of her completion, feel the way her body flutters and spasms around his slowing fingers. Fox draws it out, lightening his touch, laying adoring kisses along her hips and back over the soft skin of her belly, watching her face relax and her hands reach for him. His fingers slip from her still gripping heat and trail up as he begins to crawl up her body.</p><p>——</p><p>Ranna feels like she's floating, a blissful sensation somewhat groggy and out of breath from the intensity of her climax. Fox’s smug expression lets her know that he knows too. She makes grabby hands for him, making soft pleading noises as he slowly moves over her. She places soft kisses on his forehead as it comes within reach, and then his cheek, the tip of his nose, his chin, and finally his lips. He smiles against her mouth and she can’t help but match it as he pulls away to take a peek at his handy work.</p><p>“That good?” His hand cradles her cheek and Ranna turns her head, kissing the palm of his hand.</p><p>She grins at his smug expression, “like you don’t already know.”</p><p>“Stroke my ego a bit and say it.” </p><p>The firm press of him against her belly makes her wonder if it’s his ego or his cock that needs the stroking. She does both. Reaching between bodies she wraps hand hand around the hot flesh she finds. Like durasteel wrapped in soft silk, it fills her hand. She hums contentedly, “you made me cum so good” she purrs playfully. Fox hips jerk, his eyes darken. It’s a difficult angle to work at but Ranna feels up for the challenge.</p><p>“You need to stop that, <em>cyar’ika</em>” his voice is low and warning.</p><p>“Why?” Ranna adjusts her hips under his weight, circling them experimentally. Fox hisses and buries his face into her neck while she continues to lazily stroke him.</p><p>“Because tonight was about you. If you keep doing <em>that</em> I’m going to make it about me.”</p><p>Her laughter is soft and he nips at her pulse  point in retribution. “I want more.” She groans softly as he sucks a mark into her neck. It’s Fox’s turn to chuckle, the vibration of it rumbles against her chest. </p><p>“Rollover”  Ranna encourages, pushing on his chest lightly “let me take care of you now.”</p><p>He doesn’t argue, a thin bead of precum rolls down the back of her hand as she releases him. Fox’s eyes follow her tongue as she brings her hand to her mouth and licks it clean. He sucks in a sharp breath.</p><p>“Pushy” he groans as she moves to straddle his hips, the hard ridge of his cock rubs along her still sensitive clit. An aftershock works its way up her spine and his hands fall to rounded hips. It takes her a moment to regain composure. Fox is waiting for, she realizes. His grip is firm on her hips, the strain of holding back is evident in the way the taut muscles flex. His right arm catches her attention. She'd seen the tattoo when she'd gone to his barracks the day of the 79’s incident but now she really allows herself time to trace the thick black designs that cover it.</p><p> The ink swirls in swooping loops flowing over every inch of his arm. Ranna traces the path with a delicate touch and watch as his muscles twitch as she goes. Along his bicep the design loops around the image of a Rancor, both primitive in its depiction but as highly stylized as the patterning. He’d have to have sat for hours to complete all this and she’d never have known about it otherwise. This wasn’t something to define him from his brothers, that’s why so many clones choose facial tattoos. No, Fox’s were for him and him alone. She leans down to where the design begins to bleed and flow across his right pectoral and collarbone and kisses it softly. Fox is nearly vibrating as her tongue darts out to trace a line that leads down around his nipple. He lets out a rough grunt as she lick him there, happy to lavish him in attention when he so obviously enjoyed it.</p><p> Fox shifts underneath her, the shaft of his cock running between slick folds.  Ranna's hips rock slowly as his movements become more intentional and focused.  Leaning forward she catches his lips in a heated kiss,  hands bracing against his chest. She can taste herrself on him and moans softly into his mouth. Even in this position her perceived control is an illusion. Fox swallows down her sounds as one hand drops down to take his cock in hand. Ranna can feel the weeping tip presses against her folds.</p><p>“So fucking wet” he grits out as he drags the tip through the slick juices. She presses herr forehead against his and focus on keeping it together, “going to let me fuck your sweet cunt, mouse?”</p><p>“Please…” she rocks back as he strokes, catching the tip right where they both want him. </p><p>Like everything, Fox is above average and not only has she noted the above average length, now she's feeling the beginnings of the thick press of him. Her eyes are clamped shut and she rubs her nose against his softly.</p><p>“Thats it precious girl. Let’s get you all the way down on my cock.” Ranna presses down as he guides himself into herr waiting heat. “Open your eyes” he grits “look at me”. Her breath freezes in her lungs as she does as she's told. Fox watches intently as she rocks forward til he nearly slips from her heat, before sinking back down, taking more of him. He hisses at the sensation, “so tight- you’re- ugh- yeah- going to fill you up- full of my cock.”</p><p>Her pussy flutters as the filth spews from his mouth. Both moan in tandem.</p><p>“You like that? <em>Ner cyar’ika</em> is such a dirty girl for her Commander.”</p><p> A broken sound works it’s way from Ranna's throat because, yes, she was for him. It wasn’t just the dirty talk- that he kept coming- it was the sound of his voice, the low, ego filled way he spoke..</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I thought” Fox answers his own question, grinning as he thrusts up into you. “So hot- so wet for me” he notes as you find a rhythm rocking and grinding down in tandem with his thrusts. Already, you can feel the sensation building hot and low in your belly, as if the first impossibly wonderful orgasm wasn’t enough, it’s demanding another.</p><p>Fox fills his hands with her breasts, his fingers pluck and stroke her nipples. It’s as if he’s got a direct line to her pussy, as she arches into his hands.</p><p>“That’s it” he encourages. “You feel- perfect. So wet-“</p><p>The slick sounds of their coupling fills the air with each thrust, Ranna's arousal painting her thighs. Fox slides so easily, the slight burn of the stretch is nothing in comparison to how amazingly full it feels. </p><p>Her eyes lock with him, his intense browns pinning her in place. She can’t look away. The attraction she's felt has always been magnetic and now that their together she can’t imagine being seperated. The sensation in her belly builds higher and higher as she angles her hips just so, to grind her clit against him as she sinks down. Ranna's brain begins to short out and all she can focus on is the ever growing, all consuming need to reach her peak. She begins to lose her rhythm and whines when Fox’s hands leave her breasts.  She swears she hears him laugh as he replaces them back at her hips and guides her movements, keeping her pace. </p><p>“I feel it, Mouse. Almost there, <em>cyar’ika</em>.” He grits out approvingly. Every muscle in her body has gone tense. The high is within reach. Fox slams up sharply and Ranna cries out, letting her head fall back, her hair sticking to the sweat forming on along her back. “That’s it. That’s it. Let go.” He chokes out.</p><p>It’s all she needs as she grinds down on him tips over the precipice, her orgasm cascading over her. His name flows from her over and over as he slows his thrusts to work her through it. Her hips continue to circle and Fox makes a pained sound. She falls forward across his chest panting, pussy still fluttering. </p><p>Strong arms band around her back holding her close, before she can even think, he’s rolling the pair onto her back, his cock never leaving her cunt.  He glances down, “I need-“ </p><p>Ranna's lips press against his in a silent answer. Fox doesn’t waste time. Her legs are thrown over his arms as he begins snapping his hips. Stars flash behind her eyelids as he hits a particularly delightful spot with each snap. She can see the tight cords of muscle sticking out starkly against his neck as he chases his own release. The wet sounds from earlier are absolutely obscene now.</p><p>“Close- so close- so-“ he snarls, burying his face against her neck. Ranna arches weakly as his mouth slides to her shoulder and he bites down. The sting of his teeth drags a moan from her.</p><p>He moves to press his forehead to hers, her hands cradling his face between sloppy, unfocused kisses. </p><p>“Come for me, please Fox- please-“</p><p>Fox rears back, grasping her legs. Once. Twice. Three times he buries himself in her and then he’s pulling out, her legs falling to either side of him as he takes his cock in hand. Thick white ropes splash across Ranna's tummy as Fox snarls through his release, teeth bared and looking primal, wild. He works his hand up and down his shaft furiously as her cunt clenches around nothing. She can’t drag her eyes off of him.</p><p>His shoulders begin to slump as the last few drops fall against her smooth skin.</p><p>Their both sweating and panting, an absolute mess, but Ranna doesn’t care because Fox is gently moving her leg and collapsing down at her side, turning her head in for the most tender, aching kiss she's ever experienced. </p><p>“My little mouse.” He says softly, eyes scanning her face, grazing lips over hers tenderly before they slip to her cheek. His mouth trails to her shoulder and he places a soothing kiss on the bite, his claim. “<em>Mine</em>”.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The fourth floor sparing room in the tower of the Coruscant Guard was the favorite place of many a Guardsman. Offering reprieve from the public eye and an avenue to release pent up frustration, it was rarely empty. </p><p>The walls, a flat neutral beige devoid of character, helped the men concentrate (<em>according to the Kaminoans</em>) on their lessons, sparring, and the occasional (unsanctioned) fight.</p><p>Fox enjoyed his time there, one of his favorite places in the building. That being said, he’s unsure if he’s been in the position to study the ceiling so well before.</p><p>Rule reaches down and clasps his forearm, pulling Fox from his back into a sitting position. The younger Sargent folds to a cross legged position across from him, sweat catches along his temples as he grins like a fool. Fox can’t help but grin back at his kit. To say he was proud of what Rule and Wren were becoming was a gross understatement. The fact that Rule had now bested him two out of three rounds and he was still able to find amusement in it was testament to that.</p><p>“Getting slow, Commander”</p><p>Thire and Wren plop down near them. Thire takes a long pull of water from a bottle before using the excess to spray over his sweat soaked hair.</p><p>“Too many late nights”</p><p>Thire is his second in command, the one he trusts at his back no matter what the situation. He was serious, pragmatic, and observant. Also, a complete shit.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wren asks propping his knees up and laying on his back. Rule looks between his senior officers and then to his batchmate. </p><p>“Commander Fox has been missing from the  barracks more than he’s been there lately”</p><p>“Missing?” Wren is a damn good sargent but sometimes he’s as naive as a Padawan learner. Rule spells it out.</p><p>“The Commander is sleeping in someone else’s bed.”</p><p>For all the engrained training and military bearing he held, Wren can’t help the ‘O’ of surprise and the wide eyes he turns on Fox.</p><p>“<em>Di’kut</em>” Fox grumbles with only fondness coloring his voice. Rule smiles cheekily.</p><p>“Sir? Really” Wren seems genuinely shocked.</p><p>“Yeah, really?” Thire deadpans. Fox gives them a flat look.</p><p>Wren looks from his batchmate to Fox, “does this mean Mouse is available-“ he must notice the almost imperceptible stiffening of Fox’s spine because recognition shows. “Oh. <em>Oh</em>”</p><p>“Shut it, all of you” Fox grumbles. He and Mouse had discussed the need to keep things private. He wants to crow from the rooftops and he can’t. It was kriffing banthashit is what it was. </p><p>It hadn’t been a topic he’d wanted to broach but like everything Mouse was looking out. He remembers the nervous look she’d given him, peering up from her spot, draped sleepily across his chest the night before. He remembers the soft way she’d asked what this was. </p><p>Laughing at the question had not been the appropriate response. It has taken near pinning her to the bed after he’d barked one out to get her to listen. He’d need to be more careful in the future. </p><p>They couldn’t put a name on what they were doing but it didn’t stop Fox from wanting to. Maker, he had wanted too. He wanted to run headlong into whatever it was they’d fallen into. He’d never known a feeling like he did when he was with her.</p><p>Just a few nights spent curled around her and all he wanted was to spend the rest of his nights the same way but he had responsibility and a duty to the Grand Army.  He didn’t have the freedom to make choices or plans. One slip and he could risk being demoted, or <em>worse</em>, sent back to Kamino for <em>reconditioning</em>. Mouse didn’t know about reconditioning and he wasn’t going to tell her. She was risking enough as it was, both her job and her career if it ever came to light what they’d begun.</p><p>As much as they’d given in to their desires there was a line they couldn’t cross. She understood that. She understood that he couldn’t give anything else. The soft kiss she’d given him had told him as much. </p><p>
  <em>But when the war was over, then- </em>
</p><p>He was thinking too far ahead again. </p><p>The only way for them to be safe was to keep it under wraps. He should have known though that his men were too observant for any sneaking he did to be of any good.</p><p>“Keep it under your buckets, would you?”</p><p>There’s nods of ascent and matching “yes sirs” from the two youngsters. Thire gives him a raised brow as if he’s going to argue but nods as well. “She’s a good kid. Deserves better then the likes of you.” He jokes. Fox laughs, pushing off the mat.</p><p>“You act like I don’t know it.” He reaches for Wren and helps the younger clone up, “ready for the next round?”</p><p>He manages to take Wren three in a row.</p><p>Thire catches him in the locker room as he’s attaching his kama. The two sergeants have gone their separate ways and the few stragglers milling about pay them little attention.</p><p>“You and Mouse? She worth the risk?” Thire asks quietly, his eyes searching Fox’s. </p><p>Fox isn’t offended by the question. He’s asked himself the same one a half dozen times.</p><p>He woke early this morning, eyes open by 0445 as usual, and had to disentangle himself from the grasp of the small woman curled around him in nothing but his black undershirt. All that hair had worked itself into a convores nest of tangles. Her lips had been slightly parted as her brow knit together. She’d grumbled and reached when he’d pulled away and like that he’d learned that his cyar’ika was not a morning person. He finds he likes learning all the ins and outs of her. The fact that, given the option, she wouldn’t open her eyes before 1000 made him appreciate all the more the warm smile she had for him each morning when he’d get to the office.</p><p>“Definitely.” The single word answer seems to please Thire who nods once.</p><p>“Good, that means Hound owes me a weeks worth of traffic ops”</p><p>Because, <em>of course</em>, there had been a betting pool. </p><p>——-</p><p>The offices are two levels up from the gym and training room, just seconds by turbo-lift. Thire’s office and his own secretarial droid are on the opposite end of the floor from Fox’s. It doesn’t stop him from walking side by side with Fox. He doesn’t respond to Fox’s grumblings. He’d been keen on seeing Mouse since he’d left her warm bed this morning and he didn’t feel like tempering his enthusiasm for an audience. Even if his second hadn’t given him an official blessing- because officially nothing was going on- he still wasn’t going to be anything other than professional with another set of eyes in the room. Which was a problem because when she looks up from her work when he rounds the corner he feels anything but professional.</p><p>“Good morning Lieutenant Thire” </p><p>Fox feels a little disgruntled that Mouse hadn’t said it to him first-</p><p>“Good morning Commander Fox” and he doesn’t miss the slight blush that creeps into her cheeks when she says his name or the way she bites back a smile. She motions with her eyes to the mug of caf waiting for him. So maybe he puffs his chest out just a little bit. No one could fault him. Thire muffles a laugh behind a poor excuse for a cough.</p><p>“Mouse that’s a nice scarf you’ve got today” Thire notes. Mouse’s fingers go to her throat and the silken scarf tied in a neat knot to the side. She smiles and fiddles with it nervously.  </p><p>Fox knows he should probably feel guilty about the love bites littering her skin, instead he’s only slightly miffed no one else can see them. It was some of his finest work to date.</p><p>Her eyes dart away as she offers a quiet thank you. Thire can’t hide the chuckle that escapes his mouth as he slaps Fox on the back. “I’ll see you later and we’ll discuss the assignments for the rest of the week and through the weekend. It looks busy.”</p><p>Fox sighs, allowing work to put a damper on his good mood. Busy was an understatement. There were far too many senators needing a detail and too few men to do the job. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” He offers as encouragement.  Thire gives Mouse a wave as he retreats back to his side. </p><p>“Commander? I have the Senate schedule for the week. Also, the Chancellor has personally requested your presence for his detail the beginning of next week” she glances down at the datapad resting across her arm. A small frown flits across her face as he heads towards his door. She’s on her feet following him. </p><p>Fox smirks as she continues chatting, “he has two days in Senate hearings than off world for-“ the door slides shits behind them and he turns to see a sour expression on her face. It was almost as if…</p><p>“Are you pouting?” Fox cocks his bucket as she stares back up at him. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her lower lip sticks out just so. “You’re pouting.”</p><p>“I am not-“</p><p>“Says a precious girl trying to convince me she’s not pouting.” </p><p>Mouse’s eyes narrow as she pushes past him. He can’t help the smile that’s taking up space under his helmet. “Aww come on now, I was just teasing. Just tell me what’s wrong.”</p><p>“The Supreme Chancellor is going to be off world for at least a week.”</p><p>And suddenly he understands why she was sulking.</p><p>Getting assigned duty to the Guard made a clone the shebs of many a vod’s joke. Being called a desk jockey was the nicest thing a new recruit was bound to hear. They weren’t in a ‘war zone’. they got zero credit for the work they did and even less recognition that it held any importance. It seemed to Fox that unless you were blocking blaster bolts from Jedi with your body you weren’t going to get a pat on the back from anyone. </p><p>The work they performed was just as integral to the protection of the Republic, just as vital as the boys on the front lines. They didn’t see it that way. It got to the point where the Guard had to deal with resentment not only from citizens -happy to act like war was a dirty word that happened to other people- who didn’t want a military presence in their city and their own brethren, who looked down on them as less than equal. </p><p>The old adage that the only people that liked the Coruscant Guard were members of the Coruscant Guard was true as far as Fox was concerned. One of the few things a member of the Coruscant Guard had to look forward to was a fairly routine existence, about as close as a clone was going to get to normalcy, on Coruscant. Fox hadn’t been gone from the Triple Zero for more than four, maybe five days tops since reporting.</p><p>Now, just as he’s starting to suss out what he was doing with Mouse he’d need to be gone on assignment? He was unamused but his hands were tied. This was a clones lot. You went where you were told and did what you were ordered.</p><p>“It won’t be so bad” he lies, trying to make his voice just as convincing as possible. Mouse’s jaw is set in a hard line that indicates she does not believe him as she moves past him. “You know I have no choice in the matter.”</p><p>She stops at his desk and takes a deep breath. Fox takes in the way her shoulders dip. “I know you don’t.”</p><p>He feels like a used speeder salesman, like he convinced her anything with him was a good idea and now she’s beginning to see the <em>shabla</em> ride she signed up for. </p><p>“Ok then” he murmurs moving slowly behind her. Fox wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her back against his chest. </p><p>She lets out a contented breath as she settles willingly against him. Maybe she still hadn’t figured out what a kriffing bad deal she’d signed up for just yet. He wasn’t about to point it out.</p><p>Turning in his arms she reaches up and pecks him on the helmet.</p><p>“No fair, <em>cyar’ika</em>. Couldn’t feel it through the bucket.” </p><p>She laughs. He’s gotten spoiled with that laugh over the last couple days. </p><p>“You’ve got work, Fox.” She says primly, “finish that and maybe you can get some more where you <em>can</em> feel them” the twinkle in her eye has him already half hard. He’s learned what that’s meant too. </p><p>“You’re trying to bribe me.” He notes, smiling underneath the helmet.</p><p>“It’s not <em>trying</em> if it’s works.” She says slipping from his grasp and moving out of arms length. “Now, you sit and you do the work.”</p><p>Fox tosses her a lazy salute, “yes, ma’am”</p><p>“That’s more like it.”</p><p>“Don’t get used to it.” Fox likes the way she blushes before she turns to leave. He doesn’t miss the way her hips sway as she moves to the door or the way she peeks over her shoulder to make sure he’s watching. </p><p>“Out.” He demands “or I’m not going to get anything done.”</p><p>He doesn’t miss her peel of  laughter as the door slips shut.</p><p>———</p><p>As with most days, timelines and schedules change on the fly. What once was a meeting with the Jedi council for tomorrow turns into one today. </p><p>Fox and Lieutenant Thire leave shortly after lunch and Ranna doesn't see either before it’s time to punch out. This was the way.</p><p>She'd become accustomed to the rapid change early in her time with the Commander. Now that they were… well she doesn't know exactly what they were but since the relationship with the clone commander had changed she finds she's still trying to figure out just what her expectations needed to be. </p><p>Besides low. </p><p>Of course, this wasn’t going to work out. She told herself this. She knew this. Ranna was sure he knew it too, he just wasn’t saying it. Unfortunately, she already found her head and her heart had reached a disconnect between wants and expectations. While her head told her to enjoy the physical attention of a very attractive, very competent man but keep distance emotionally, her heart was trying it’s best to drag Ranna all in.</p><p>His office door slides open as Ranna punches in the code, taking a lap around to make sure everything was in place. Fox was typically fastidious in his cleanliness. Everything had a place and it was rarely ever out of sorts. The only thing she notices today is a stray datapad parked in the corner of the desk. The same one she’d put there this morning. The same one that only has signatures on half the things she needed to file it all. </p><p>Because Fox was as sly as his namesake.</p><p>Seeing Fox tonight had not been in the plans. He’d made mention that some of the boys were onto the pair of them and he thought it was a good idea if he stayed in the barracks for a few days. Ranna agreed wholeheartedly. Of course, she's now come to realize, he hadn’t meant he wasn’t going to see her at all. She just had to go to him. Ranna can’t help but shake her head as she picks the pad up and leaves the office. After throwing on her coat, the datapad gets slipped into her shoulder bag before she makes for the turbolift and the barracks. </p><p>Located on the first two expansive subfloors, the Coruscant Guard’s barracks levels were expansive, housing the entirety of the clones who patrolled Coruscant and served the Senate. Ranna smiles nervously at faces she sees, some familiar and some not so familiar. While it wasn’t uncommon to see a civilian face in the barracks apparently a female one, this late in the evening was. She tries to keep her head down as she turns a corner and makes her way to Fox’s stateroom, knocking lightly and trying to avoid the curious looks she is getting from passing clones.</p><p>“Well hey, sweetheart. What are you doin’ down here?” </p><p>Ranna doesn't recognize the clone and offers a nervous smile.</p><p>“She’s here to see me trooper.” Fox looms out of his door as it slides open. The trooper snaps to attention. “Is that an issue?”</p><p>“N-no Commander Fox”</p><p>Ranna's eyes move to the Commander in the doorway. Even dressed in just his blacks he cuts a striking figure. “Well? On your way then.” He orders, his voice offering no room for argument. The trooper snaps a quick salute and begins his journey down the hall at a quickened pace.</p><p>“You didn’t need to scare him” it's hard to fight back a smile as she enters his room. The door slides shut behind her. “He was just being friendly.”</p><p>Ranna is caught off guard as her back is pressed up against the door and Fox presses himself into her space.</p><p>“Too friendly” he mutters, leaning in and slotting his mouth against hers. Ranna leans up and wraps her arms around his neck as he licks into her mouth. Fox hums appreciatively as her body presses further into his chest, sucking gently on his tongue as it slips past full lips. A sigh escapes her as he pulls back, hands moving to cup her bottom. “Took you long enough to get here” he mumbles against the crown of her head. </p><p>She swats uselessly at his chest as she squirms out of his arms. Fox chuckles at the roll of her eyes as she fishes the datapad from the worn leather bag at her side and tosses it to him. He catches it readily.</p><p>“You’re rotten.” she mutters, “could have just asked me to come over.”</p><p>“Where’s the fun in that?”</p><p>He doesn’t seem fazed by the skeptical look he receives, “no fun at all because now you’re going to finish your kriffing work.”</p><p>He barks out a laugh, “and what do I get if I do?”</p><p>“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” </p><p>A sly grin crosses his face as he stalks nearer. The room isn’t large, a bed in the corner, an armchair next to a dresser and a desk scarcely large enough for a child to work let alone a grown man. Ranna backs up, giggling, until the back her legs hit his desk.</p><p>“What about kidnappers?” He looms, taking her chin in hand, “I don’t plan on letting you out of here anytime soon, Little Mouse.”</p><p>Warmth spreads through her belly at the low tone of his voice. Ranna inhales sharply through her nose and he knows he’s got her right where he wants her. His hand slides down her neck working loose the scarf she’d worn all day. His thumb strokes over the dark, bruised marks he’s exposed. “Stay tonight.”</p><p>“Is that a question or a command?”</p><p>The smile he gives is absolutely wicked and full of promise, “what do you want it to be?”</p><p>It’s hard to pull herself together, he barely had to try and she found herself falling under his sway.</p><p> “Work then play.” She mumbles softly. A moment passes. Ranna waits for him to push because that’s what he loved to do, but he doesn’t.</p><p>“Work then play” he concedes as he takes the few steps to the armchair wedged into the corner of the small room. Bright eyes follow him as he sinks into the cushion, legs spread wide and inviting. He pats his lap, “come sit with me. Keep me company while I finish.” He sounds innocent enough but Ranna knows him to be anything but. Her arms cross her chest. </p><p>“If I had known you were going to hold me hostage, I would have brought a change of clothes.” The scarf is removed completely and dropped unceremoniously on his desk.  Her faux indignation does little to dampen his mood. The hot brand of his eyes on the love bites is unmistakable. </p><p>“You could just take it all off” he leans forward grinning lasciviously before setting the datapad down and pulling his shirt over his head, “or you could wear this?” Ranna catches the black shirt he tosses before picking the datapad back up.</p><p>Two steps toward the ‘fresher and Fox is clearing his throat. Ranna stops and look over at him. She doesn’t miss the way his tongue wets his lips or the hungry look in his eyes. “Right there, Mouse.” </p><p>Her tummy flips at the order- because that was what it was. She’d heard that tone before, Fox used it with his men. Her teeth press into her lower lip. She’d been sleeping with him nearly every night for the last week but something about this is different. </p><p>The buttons of her blouse come undone slowly beneath nervous fingers. Ranna can feel Fox’s eyes leaving a heated trail over her skin as she lets the blouse flutter into a rumpled pile on the floor. </p><p>“Skirt next” he demands. His posture appears relaxed, maybe even lazy but she can see the play of his forearms as his hand grips the chair. She turns her back to him as the zip of the skirt is lowered. The grey fabric pools on the floor and, along with her shoes, is kicked off. </p><p>The low rumble from behind lets her know he appreciates the view. Straightening, Ranna glances over her shoulder, trying to offer an innocent look. If he wanted to be the boss she’d give him every opportunity, “what next?” she asks sweetly.</p><p>“Panties. But don’t turn around. I want to stare at your ass a little bit longer.” </p><p>The admission sends a bolt of electricity to her center. Hooking her fingers in the waistband, Ranna slides the simple black underwear down over the swell of her hips.</p><p>“Nice and slow.” He encourages. </p><p>Bending at the hips she makes a show of sliding the fabric over her thighs and down her legs. Fox moves restlessly in his seat, the creaking of springs gives him away as she straightens back up.</p><p>The hooks of her bra are easy to unclasp and Ranna lets the straps slip down over her shoulders before slowly turning around. </p><p>Fox’s eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide. “Take it off” he rasps. The garment falls to the floor. Ranna thinks she should feel nervous, maybe embarrassed, but the look on Fox’s face is longing, reverent. He makes her feel like a goddess and he’s worshipping her with his eyes. Ranna's thighs squeeze together to relieve the tension that’s beginning to slowly sparking low in he belly. “Gorgeous girl. Now put the shirt on and come sit on my lap before I change my mind and we skip right to the fun portion of the evening.</p><p>Putting on a show, the black under armor gets pulled slowly over her head. Fox is larger than she is and it shows when his shirt is in place. The hem of it hangs down enough to cover all the places he’d been eyeing minutes before. Nearly all the points where the shirt fit snugly against the clone, it fits loose on Ranna, except where it clings gently over the slope of her breasts and their pebbled nipples. </p><p>Fox follows every movement she make as she walks to him. He holds a hand out for her to take as he guides her into his lap. His chest is bare and Ranna's eyes trace the light scarring she sees across his left pec, hidden beneath tattoo ink and the smaller scars - that she'd been told were from a blaster burn- on his right flank. The scars stick out, pale against the deep tan of his skin. They were a roadmap across his body that she never seemed to have enough time to explore. </p><p>Fox jostles her onto one thigh and drapes her legs over the opposite one. Ranna tucks in to his bare chest and breaths the scent of him. He’s just as tense as she feels as her head pillows against his shoulder, her fingers begin a slow slide up over his skin, tracing the marks she finds back to their origins- like playing a game of connect-the-dots. </p><p>With a harsh breath of his own Fox picks up the datapad, “work first” it’s said to himself. Ranna watches as he opens up the to-do list she’d made and scans it quickly before opening the first series of documents. </p><p>“How was your day?” She asks softly. One hand smoothing flat against his chest while the other strokes over the short hairs at the base of his skull. He is nearly purring as he clicks through the work, signing his initials where needed. Work is intermittent as he pauses to let his eyes slip shut and enjoy the tender touch before he silently reminds himself what needs to be done and goes back to it.</p><p>“Long.” He murmurs, “the council meeting was useless. We need more boots on the ground here but we’re not going to get them. There’s a siege starting on Anaxes and they’re diverting the 501st that way in a few days.” He explains, head leaning back into her touch. She makes a soft hum of understanding.</p><p>He wraps an arm around her waist to readjust, the firm press of desire is easily felt through his blacks along her bottom. </p><p>“I’m working Mouse. Stop wiggling” he chastises as she squirm against his hardness. Inhaling deeply, she forces her body to relax. It’s hard, knowing what Fox is capable of and being made to wait, Ranna has gotten spoiled very quickly. This was a trial for the both parties.</p><p>He moves onto the next series of documents, related to the recent trafficking incident, “I just want to make sure I’m doing everything right. Not just for my men-“ </p><p>Fox reaches up to his head, pressing the heel of his hand hard against it.</p><p>“Headache?” Ranna frowns softly. He makes a sound of confirmation.</p><p>“I finally looked at the Fives file again today.” He explains softly. She hums for him to continue, “I can’t- everytime I get into it my head starts hurting. It’s got to be stress. I think I missed something and I can’t put my finger on it.”</p><p>“Let it rest for tonight?” </p><p>He nods slowly.</p><p>“I’ll try. Maybe you can help me forget?” She highly doubts that but willingly accepts the kiss he turns to give. Unlike the heated one from earlier this one is soft, tender. Like the one earlier, it’s over way too soon as he returns his attention to his work, “almost done”.</p><p>He scrolls through one interrogation than the next. Finally, he pauses at the picture of the children that had been rescued. Ranna watches as his finger traces over a tiny Twil girl, </p><p>“Adorable.” She notes softly. With her pale green skin, gap toothed smile, and sparkling eyes she was absolutely captivatingly sweet. Fox tenses under her.</p><p>“You like children?” He seems surprised when she laughs and she's not sure if she should be offended or not.</p><p>“Of course I like children! They’re darling, what’s not to like?” Fox makes a small sound and rushes to the next screen. Silence falls and Ranna wonders if she's said something wrong. </p><p>He retreated into himself sometimes and, when he did,  she was at a loss as to what he was thinking. The best thing to do was be patient. If she'd discovered anything it was that pushing Fox accomplished nothing, he was too stubborn for it and she’d only frustrate yourself.</p><p>Fingers continue to stroke over his exposed skin and into his hair. The gentle touch not only soothes Fox but it begins to lull Ranna. Lazily she nuzzles against his neck, occasionally pressing dry kisses along it. The only indication that he notices is the slight tip in his head offering more for her eager lips to kiss. </p><p>“Do you want children, Mouse?” Even given the previous idle chat Ranna finds herself freezing. Fox lays the datapad off to the side and his strong hands begin massaging her thighs. The full strength of his gaze is focused solely on her.</p><p>“I- I hadn’t put much thought into it.” A bold lie if she's ever spoken one. </p><p>Truth was, she did want children, had thought about it since she was one herself. Growing up in the children’s home, after her mother's death, she’d been the one to help look after the tiny infants and small children. Ranna was the one that always woke up with a little one in her bed after they’d had a nightmare. Ranna was the one they ran too when they had boo boos that needed tending and comfort to be given. As she’d come of age she’d had to put the idea out of her head. Taking care of herself in the world had to come first because there was no one else to look out for her and that was ok. She got her own apartment and held down jobs. She threw herself into work and helping those around her. Relationships and motherhood became an afterthought and eventually, a pipe dream. Nice to think about but out of reach. “What about you?”</p><p>Fox’s hands knead the soft flesh of her thighs, teasing her legs apart slowly and sliding higher. “Officially or unofficially?”</p><p>“Both” it comes out in a breathless way that makes him smile. His touch is feather-light as he rubs tiny circles into her skin.</p><p>“Officially, my mission is to serve the Grand Army to the best of my capabilities, laying down my life if necessary. The GAR is my purpose and I have no need to want for anything else.” He sounds like he’s repeating a slogan that has been drilled into his head. Ranna frowns. It probably had been.</p><p>“Unofficially?” A conspiratorial smile cracks his serious facade and her heart flips at the spark she sees in his eyes.</p><p>“Unofficially? I want a whole pack of them.” His fingers knead slowly, opening her legs further for his exploration. </p><p>“Yeah?” Ranna lets out a breathless giggle as he turns his head and nuzzles his stubbled cheek against the column of her throat. Goosebumps spring to life across her arms. The thought of Fox with a baby in his arms and one clinging to his armored leg flashes in her head. It’s…attractive, to say the least. “How many?”</p><p>There’s a slight hesitation when he answers but he manages the response with a question of his own. “How many would you give me?”</p><p>“Fox…” he ignores her sigh. </p><p>He couldn’t just say things like that. She wants to chastise him for even thinking such forbidden things. For getting her hopes up for a future that didn’t exist but she can’t because now that she knows about this desire of his, her tummy flips excitedly when she imagines-</p><p>“Shh, precious- you can tell me later”</p><p>Ranna can feel his grin against her throat. She wants to grumble at his arrogance but the hand sliding up and over her belly beneath his shirt and the other moving to cover her breast feel too nice to interrupt. Through the material he gently plucks and plays with a nipple until her back arches delicately and her hips are grinding down against the growing hardness between his legs. His teeth sink gently into the spot behind her ear as she moans softly.</p><p>Hands fall back to her hips as he lifts. Ranna can feel him bridging his hips off the chair and pushing his blacks down over his hips just far enough to let his cock spring free as he repositions her. Ranna's legs fall to either side of his. Straddling him, she is now able to glance down at his cock- hard as durasteel- between her legs, the head deep red and leaking precum. When she looks back up there’s an uncharacteristic hesitation in his eyes.</p><p>He takes himself in hand as she rises to her knees. She's already soaked as he runs the tip of his cock through her folds collecting the lubrication. </p><p>“All for me, precious girl?” He questions, voice low and harsh, “I’m spoiled- always so wet and ready for me.”</p><p>The head of his cock presses hot and heavy at her entrance. “Take it, <em>cyar’ika</em>” he urges lowly.</p><p>There’s no denying him, why would she ever want to?  Slowly, painfully so, she beginS to sink down over his length, inhaling sharply at the fullness that comes along with him.</p><p>“That’s it- that’s perfect. So fucking perfect” Fox groans as she takes him all the way until their bodies are tucked neatly together. The stretch of him was still something that she needed a minute to accommodate for. Fox leans in and kisses along her shoulder, still wearing his shirt, before he’s carefully rucking it up. His mouth descends to her breasts and he lays soft kisses in the cleft between them before letting his mouth slide over the soft curve and catching a rosy-peaked nipple in his mouth. Ranna's head falls back and again, she feels like a goddess. He laps and sucks until she's squirming and unable to hold still, the tiny electric shocks of pleasure become an uninterrupted current flowing through her as her body clenches around his cock. Then he’s switching to the other side and repeating the process until she feels like she's going to come apart from his mouth alone. </p><p>Her cunt flutters around him and Fox bucks up once, making a strangled sound in his throat, half-way between a cry and a snarl. </p><p>“Imagine- imagine <em>cyar’ika</em>,” the words spill from his lips in a mad rush “that when I finally spill inside you, it’s with purpose…” </p><p>There’s something different about his voice, less controlled than usual. It stirs something in her. Fox was always so put together, even during lovemaking he managed to exude the air of a disciplined soldier but that’s not what she's hearing now. There’s an edge of something raw and desperate to him. She doesn't know what it is that he needs but she wants to give it to him. She wants to give him everything.</p><p>She had the implant, Ranna reminds herself, there was no harm in indulging a fantasy.</p><p>“Tell me” she demands breathless. Slowly, her hips begin to circle, testing the position. That electric current arc and sparking in her belly ebbs and flows. She chases the spark. Rising up to her knees,  Ranna mewls softly at the drag of his cock before sinking back down and sheathing him fully. Fox lets out a hiss.</p><p>“You want to hear?” There’s something broken and rough in his voice. She knows she shouldn’t encourage this line of thought because nothing could come of it but it’s too enticing not to. </p><p>A sharp thrust has her inhaling sharply. Fingers twist in the hair at the base of herr skull, firm and unyielding. “You want to hear how I want to bury myself in you? Again. And. Again?” He punctuates each word with a roll of his hips  “Coming inside you day after day until it takes and my child is growing inside you?”</p><p>Ranna gasps out his name.</p><p>“Yes… wanna- wanna feel- wanna be a good girl for you and take it all” Fox buries his head into the crook of her neck and growls lowly. Strong arms wrap around her waist as she feels him rise from the chair. Instinctively, legs wrap around him as he takes the three short steps to his bed and presses her back into the mattress. The look on his face is wild and intense as he begins to thrust slow and deep into her needy cunt. It feels like heaven because it’s Fox and she-</p><p>“Always so good for me” he grits out as he buries himself fully. “Can’t stop thinking about you. All day you’re in my head. Want to Keep you safe. Protect you-” The words spill from Fox’s lips. “My precious girl. So good to me.”</p><p>“I need- more- harder please” Ranna manages out, the achingly slow torture of what he was doing not enough, only making her desperate for what she knew he could give.</p><p>One hand is tangled in her hair and the other supports her lower back, angling her just the way he liked, “don’t want to hurt you.” He grits.</p><p>“You won’t-“ Ranna feels desperate, the raw need he was radiating only managing to stoke herr own. She nearly cries when he pulls from her completely, the cool air chilling her skin where his body had once warmed it. A useless sob slips from her lips. “Fox-“</p><p>“On your hands and knees, Little Mouse.”</p><p>She rushes to comply. His hand smooths over her back as she gets into position, fingers sliding down the base of her spine than over the round globes of her ass. He gives an affectionate squeeze. “Love your ass…” he mutters, voice thick with want. </p><p>Ranna wiggles her hips temptingly and Fox gives a light slap that sends more sparks racing direct to her core. </p><p>“Impatient.” There’s a fondness to his muttering she can’t ignore but doesn't have time to think about  because than he’s pushing into her cunt and- <em>oh Maker</em>- she hadn’t tried this position with him yet and he’s going so deep, making her feel so full that she can barely breath. His hand smooths over herr lower back, his thumb brushing across the pair of dimples on either side of her spine.</p><p>“Good girl-“ he grits, rolling his hips. That feeling building inside Ranna grows by the second. She focuses on the sensation, a ball of electricity crackling deep in her belly, ever expanding and engulfing as Fox continues to fuck into her. The hard snap of his hips, the rough thrust of his cock in stark contrast to the loving praise he doles out.</p><p>His name becomes a prayer on her lips, later she’ll wonder how loud they were? Could anyone hear her? In the moment, she can focus on nothing but the way their bodies connect to one another and the primal feel of him behind her.</p><p>“You’re too far away, <em>cyar’ika</em>” Fox growls, frustration evident in his voice as he leans over and wraps an arm around her waist. He brings her with him when he sits back up, Ranna's lower back arches obscenely as he holds her close and fucks into her at the same time.</p><p> Everything feels tight and tense. Too much and not enough. Ranna's head falls back along his shoulder and he buries his face into her neck, growling against her ear.</p><p>“Tell me to stop. Tell me to pull out.” She would laugh if she weren’t so precariously close to the edge. </p><p>“No” she manages to get the word out as his free hand slips between her legs and begins quick circles over her clit.</p><p>“I’m going to come inside you unless you tell me to stop.” He sounds almost desperate, afraid that he can’t control himself. Ranna's body pushes back in time with his thrusts.</p><p>“So close- so close- Fox, do it” she pleads, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She's desperate and she needs to feel him.</p><p>His strokes over her clit become erratic as words spill brokenly from his mouth. Praise and curses and feral sounds all twisting together. “Come” he demands finally, “be a- a good girl and come. I’m close- I’m-“</p><p>Fox’s hips stutter and she can feel it, the way his cock jerks, the warm flood of his seed filling and coating as he pulls her tight. She can feel the low rumble of his groan where his chest is connected to her back, the way he bites down on her shoulder to hold the sound back.  The combination is enough to throw her over the edge and then she's falling apart too, keening high and long as lightning travels through her body, white-hot and fast. Her mind blanks out as she rides the sensations, feeling it more deeply, more intensely than any orgasm she's ever had before. It’s as if she's been shattered into a million beautiful, glittering pieces and slowly being pulled back together. A  tiny sob escapes her lips as Fox places wet open mouthed kisses across her shoulder, his cock still deep inside, twitching in time with her fluttering cunt. </p><p>He strokes her softly, lovingly as his own movements inside begin to gentle. His voice is soft, soothing as her pussy continues to spasm around him, milking him for every last drop. A single tear rolls down her cheek. Fox wipes it away.</p><p>“<em>Ner cyare</em>… shhh… <em>Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum</em>” </p><p>Ranna doesn’t speak Mando’a but the words sound pretty, particularly coming from his mouth. </p><p>“That sounds nice” she rasps out, her throat gone dry. She tries to swallow spit to correct it. Fox tenses then hums in acknowledgement as his arms surround her. He eases his spent cock from her body. Ranna feels like a rag doll, boneless and pliable and he’s careful to move her limbs into a more comfortable position, laying her on her side and pressing in behind on the tiny bed.</p><p>“It’s very nice” he says with a sigh.</p><p>“What does it mean?”</p><p>He inhales softly the scent of her hair and gives her hip a playful, if not exhausted squeeze. “It means <em>nosy little mice should learn more mando’a</em>.”</p><p>Ranna is pretty sure that’s not the case but she's too tired to argue, safe and warm in her lovers arms, sleep takes her without a fight.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Padme Amidala was a dream to work with; polite, considerate, appreciative. Truly one of the few people in the Galactic Senate that Fox truly enjoyed. Her ability to rally those around her to her cause and spark loyalty in her followers was something he couldn’t help but admire and though her strong willed personality had put them at odds at times (when keeping her safe out weighed her desire to throw herself headlong into danger) he would always consider himself a fan.</p><p>Which made it all the more irritating that he was on detail for Raxallian Thrug, the sniveling <em>chakaar</em> from Cantonica. Every vile cliche Fox had ever heard about politicians was on display in Thrug. Deceitful, underhanded, slimy- the list went on and on.</p><p>Fox stands at attention behind his current charge as he leans to the aide at his side and whispers what amounted to filth into his ear as Senator Amidala gave an impassioned plea for aide to the outer rim, heavily under siege from seppie forces.</p><p>Did Thrug not realize Fox could hear every disgusting comment he made about Amidala or did he simply not care what a clone may or may not hear. Clenching his hands into fists, Fox wasn’t sure what option bothered him more.</p><p>Trying to block the senator out he looks past him, scanning the crowd for any anomalies, anything that stood out or could indicate an issue.</p><p>Rule’s voice crackles through his helmet comms. “<em>She’s really worked up over this”</em>.</p><p>Aside from the HUD and the various other bells and whistles the buckets were equipped with, the ability for private comms was one of the biggest perks in Fox’s eyes. No one ever needed to know they were talking.</p><p>“Seems to be, yeah” he hums in agreement.</p><p>“<em>She said to say ‘hi’ earlier. You think she’s got a crush too</em>?” Rule teases.</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes behind his visor. He doesn’t justify that with a response. Padmé Amidala was not interested in the likes of him, she merely cared about those around her. Even if she did, his interest lay elsewhere.</p><p><em>Interest</em> wasn’t the right word though was it? Not after what he’d done. Not after what he’d said. He’d said those words, those words, to not one other soul in his life. He honestly had never even thought about the phrase before he was quieting her with it. They had just been one of the many things he- and many other troopers- absorbed over time about their progenitor’s culture. Mando’a spread like wildfire when spoken in barracks and war zones across the galaxy. They were just men without history, without a background or roots, looking for meaning and belonging outside of someone else’s war.</p><p>He’d been supremely thankful (and also a little miffed) when she hadn’t questioned him any further on his amorous declaration. Hadn’t she even been curious? Obviously she didn’t feel the same. How could she?</p><p>He’d taken her in a way he’d only dreamt about, done something he had relegated to his most private fantasies. But she’d encouraged it. She’d asked for more. For more explanation, for more of everything. Even now the memory of spilling inside her, of the way she’d sobbed out her release and quaked in his arms sent a thrill through Fox. He was a man nursing a borderline obsession and it was going to end badly for the both of them if he wasn’t careful.</p><p>“<em>Commander</em>?” Rules voice breaks hesitantly into his thoughts.</p><p>“I hear you, Rule. Whatcha got?”</p><p>“<em>I’m not sure sir. I just got a flash of something in quadrant three, northwest corner. HUD picked up a wonky looking heat signature</em>.”</p><p>Fox’s eyes scan to the coordinates that pop up on his display, a balcony two levels above where he stood guard behind Thrug. It should have been unoccupied. That was the game plan, no guests above Guard eyesight.</p><p>“Ryk?” Fox’s voice is brisk as his mind starts working through the possibilities, adrenaline slowly seeping into his system. “Come stand with the good senator while I look into this.”</p><p>“<em>Yes Commander.</em>”</p><p>Fox has approximately three minutes to think of all the horrible possibilities. Snipers, Bombs, Seppie Sympathizers. Each one offers a new and more complicated amount of paperwork. And more headaches.</p><p>Always the headaches. They were getting worse each week. More frequent. More intense. More of a pain in his ass.</p><p>Mouse had noticed. Mouse always noticed. This morning she’d crawled over him, still only in his shirt, and gone digging through the ‘fresher cabinet til she’d found a bottle of pain pills. She’d come back with the bottle, water, and a cool cloth for his head. He would have fallen to his knees and worshipped her if his head hadn’t caused such a revolt. She’d laid with him, legs straddling his hips and body sprawled over his, before the sun came up and done her weird little miracle massage along his forehead even though he knew she was exhausted. It had helped but hadn’t cured him. Even now the dull ache followed him.</p><p>Ryk slips into Thrugs box and if the politician registers one clone has traded places with the other, Fox will be surprised.</p><p>He takes the steps up to the supposedly empty balcony dragging his deece from the holster as he gets to the door, eyes drop to the weapon to check settings. The door is slightly ajar and he can see a quick flash of movement through the crack.</p><p>He counts silently to three before his boot connects with the door control, slamming it open. It’s a tense moment as he finds himself face to face with the singing blue plasma blade of a lightsaber and a pair of blasters, identical to his, pointed dead center mass at his being.</p><p>“Commander Fox” Anakin Skywalker’s voice is cool as it greets him. The curse that escapes from Captain Rex at his side is less than formal.</p><p>“Fierfek, Fox…” he grumbles lowly, something Fox vaguely hears as something about shooting his shebs off.</p><p>General Skywalker retracts his blade and both clones lower their blasters, pausing for a tense moment before holstering the weapons.</p><p>“General. Captain. This area is off limits. If I may ask, why are you up here?” He aims for stern military Commander but he can’t help the cringe under his bucket as Skywalker raises a brow in his direction. “With all do respect General” he adds as on afterthought.</p><p>Rex must sense the brewing tension between the pair as he steps into speak for his general. “We were just trying to get a good spot to listen to Senator Amidala speak. We’re both fans.” A look passes between the pair that Fox can’t decipher. Skywalker rolls his eyes at his captain before turning back to Fox.</p><p>There was no love lost between the general and the Commander. Too much had happened that set their paths intersecting- and not for the better- for them to meet with anything but anxiety (from Fox) and thinly veiled contempt (from the Jedi).</p><p>The Jedi waves his hand dismissively turning his back to the clones. It raises the small hairs on the back of Fox’s neck. He should be used to this by now, the brush off, the outright disdain that he and his men had been forced to become accustomed too. In the name of obedience and loyalty he has to handle the general’s brush off with an acceptance that he doesn’t feel.</p><p>He turns stiffly as the roar of the crowd rises up to them. A quick glance over his shoulder shows Skywalker staring down at the young Senator with a look in his eyes that felt, at once, both foreign and all too familiar to Fox.</p><p>“Fox?” Rex’s voice rises over the sounds below. “I was wondering if I could talk to you? I was going to just stop at your office but since your here now-“</p><p>Fox’s bucket cocks to the side. anything Rex has to say to him wouldn’t be in front of the Jedi. “my office is fine. I’ll be there all afternoon”</p><p>Rex looks as if he’s about to argue but he stops and gives him a nod of affirmation. There was history between them and if something had to come of it then it would be on Fox’s terms. In private.</p><p><em>“Commander? You ok?</em>” Ryk’s voice crackles through his helmet comms.</p><p>“Yeah, Ryk, nothing worth seeing here.”</p><p>———-</p><p>Ranna's body throbs dully, the pleasant soreness from last night sending a shiver down her spine each time she thinks back on it. Everytime she thinks of Fox her body reacts, a warm flush of color to her cheeks or a full feeling in her chest that can only be one thing. Kriff. She was in deep and couldn’t help the smile that played at her lips when she thought about him.</p><p>Moving through the cafeteria line, Ranna slowly gathers a few things for a light lunch. She wasn't particularly hungry but she grabs a sandwich and a bag of protato chips along with a small cup of fruit. And the largest mug of caf available because utter exhaustion had settled into her bones. Fox had not let her be done after just their initial romp. Her cheeks flame hot as she remembers waking in the middle of the night to his tongue lapping are her cunt, his shoulders pushing her legs wide, and the soft groans he made between praising her for taking him so well and telling her how much he wanted to have her again and again.</p><p>She wonders if anyone can tell the filthy thoughts floating through her head or how she was remembering Fox cleaning up his release that had leaked from her overly full core.</p><p>Ranna needed a cold shower. Or her Commander.</p><p>“Mouse!” Sargent Wren elbows through a trio of troopers. He smiles brightly as he comes to a stop in front of her and places his own food on her tray before he takes it out of her hands. “I’ll carry that.”</p><p>She gives in without a fight, knowing that there was no use in arguing. Wren falls in at her side as he grabs a pair of ration bars and adds it to the tray.</p><p>“For later” he explains. Never in her life had she seen people that could put away so much food. Hound had once explained it was due to a higher than normal metabolism and, while they’d been engineered to run on the dense ration bars alone, if given the option, each clone could put away seemingly half his weight in food at each meal.</p><p>Nearly every one you’d met had a viscous sweet tooth on top of it. She’d learned the hard way after the candy stash she’d kept in her desk drawer had been discovered and raided by a group of “unknown perpetrators“.</p><p>Ryk and Rule had promised to look into it, Rule with bits of chocolate still clinging to his lip.</p><p>“All by yourself today?” Wren asks conversationally as the pair find an unoccupied table. She knows what he’s asking. She’ll have to inform Fox that they were the worst kept secret in the Guard.</p><p>“Senator Amidala had a speech today. He’s pulling protection detail.”</p><p>“With Amidala?” Wren has shoved a large bite of sandwich in his mouth and struggles to swallow as he asks the question. Ranna pushes a canteen of water to him.</p><p>“No. Thrug I believe.” The Sargent makes a sound of understanding as he gulps down a drink. He coughs once as the food goes down.</p><p>“That sounds about right. Since The incident with Skywalker’s Padawan he hasn’t been pulling detail with the senator. Word is General Skywalker is a bit protective over her. Unfortunately the Commander is a two time loser in the general's eyes.”</p><p>The fruit cup is a bit too ripe, but Ranna eats it regardless, chewing thoughtfully. Wren is right. She hadn’t noticed the change but now that it was pointed out she wonders how she’d missed it. Maybe Fox wasn’t the only one carrying on an unheard of affair, not that she could blame the Jedi. They'd only met once (and for a second at that) but she’d found Padmé Amidala to be courteous and warm, much more like senators Chuchi and Organa than the loud blustering career politicians from other worlds.</p><p>She keeps her mouth shut and her opinions to herself. If she’d learned one thing it was best to stay out of matters involving Jedi. Public opinion on the war and the order itself had been wavering as of late. Ranna's concern was with Fox and the men of the Coruscant Guard and while what happened with the Senate and the war would affect them on a grand scale she’d come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t control that. She could, however, control things in their daily lives. Make things easier in little ways. It was a small consolation but it was what she could offer.</p><p>It was more than some, who claimed to be for clone rights, did. A glance around the cafeteria shows the self segregation, clones and civilian contractors at separate tables not mixing or interacting. A group of troopers to their right argues good naturedly in Mando’a. Wren smothers a smile as he listens in.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>Wren looks up, confusion then clarity lights his face, “just a joke” he gestures toward the other clones. “It’s stupid” he dismisses.</p><p>Ranna huffs a breath. Maybe she wanted to hear a stupid joke. Not for the first time she wishes she knew the language the troopers bantered in.</p><p>“Really Mouse it’s not even that funny. Like, ‘<em>your mother</em>’ jokes? We don’t even have mothers.” Wren rapidly tries to explain and she holds up a hand for him to stop.</p><p>“It’s fine. I get it. You’d think I’d have picked up some Mando’a by this point anyway.”</p><p>Wren shrugs as if agreeing. “I could teach you a few words if you want?” He offers. He waits while she thinks. “Come on” he presses.</p><p>Ranna shrugs, “ok, <em>cyar’ika</em>” she throws back at him.</p><p>His flashes a toothy grin, “easy- and I can guess where you’ve been hearing that one- beloved, darling. It’s a term of endearment but I’m sure you’ve learned that by now.”</p><p>She fights back a blush, hiding behind a big gulp of caf. “Something like that.”</p><p>He goes on unprompted with simple words for child, mother/father, outsiders, Jedi. Ranna tries to burn each into her memory.</p><p>“<em>Al’verde</em> Fox” he offers and she mulls it over thoughtfully.</p><p>“Leader Fox?”</p><p>“Close! Very close <em>Mous’ika</em>” Wren is an enthusiastic teacher. He makes an encouraging gesture with his hands, “try again”.</p><p>Ranna thinks carefully before her next attempt, “Commander Fox?”</p><p>Wren slaps his hand against the table with a laugh. Ranna jumps slightly at the loud noise. “Yes! Good job! Now” he offers, “you tell me something and I’ll translate it”</p><p>The words don’t even pause at her lips before they slip out. She knows her accent is atrocious and she's not even sure if it comes out correct. <em>“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”</em>.</p><p>The phrase catches Wren mid-drink and he seems to choke before he’s able to swallow down the liquid on his mouth. “Wow.”</p><p>“Wow?”</p><p>“Yes, wow” he sobers “wanna tell me where you heard that doozy? Or should I guess?”</p><p>Ranna rolls her eyes, and way of deflecting,“Well are you going to tell me what it means or what?”</p><p><em>“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum</em>” he repeats, the words flowing off his tongue easily and without the stilted tone she’d used “I know you forever” he says softly.</p><p>It’s a pretty phrase and she says as much.</p><p>“Pretty is an understatement. It’s the Mando equivalent to a declaration of love.”</p><p>———</p><p>Fox paces his office floor as he flips through screen after screen of requisitions. This was the part of his job he hated most. The supply clerk was in charge of getting all orders together, but as Commander, he had to give final authorization for every order going through. It was mind numbing, monotonous.</p><p>A soft knock comes mid step and he gives a sharp bark to enter. Between dealing with Thrug, his unexpected run in with Skywalker and the Captain of the 501st, and the new stress inducing realization of the depth of his emotions for his little Mouse,Fox feels off-kilter. He doesn’t like it.</p><p>Mouse enters bearing a ration bar, a mug, and a smile that makes him forget his raw nerves.</p><p>“Caf?” He asks enthusiastically. She shakes her head and gives him a skeptical smile.</p><p>“Tea. A little less stimulating this late in the afternoon.” She sets both on his desk before leaning against the duraplast and taking him in.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Something soft tugs at the corner of her mouth. She shrugs, “just wondering why you’re trying to wear a tread through the floor. That’s all.”</p><p>The eye roll he gives is big and dramatic and she chuckles quietly. He moves to the desk, tossing the datapad down. It doesn’t take much to work her bottom back onto the surface and step between her legs. She looks hesitant, staring up at him, her lip between her teeth in that telling way of hers.</p><p>“Something wrong, <em>Cyar’ika</em>?” Gently, his gloved hand cups her cheek and she tips softly into it. He places a soft kiss on the crown of her head before her eyes flutter shut. She’s so kriffing soft. He scarcely believes he’s allowed to handle anything so delicate and fragile. Fox’s fingers slip to her chin and angle her mouth up to him.</p><p>“Was your day really that bad?” She probes. Fox can feel her feet hooking behind his knees and pulling in til he was flush with her body.</p><p>“S’much better now” he’s being purposefully evasive. Mouse didn’t need to worry about the things that had been weighing heavily on him, nor did he want her to realize that she was one of them. He slides his mouth over hers, sharing his breath and taking in hers in return in a soft reverent meditation masquerading as a kiss. Being wrapped up in his precious girl does seem to make everything better, the tension pressing in on his chest eases. The soft sigh that slips past her lips as his teeth nip at her is the best thing he’s heard all day.</p><p>One hand splays across his chest while the other grips behind his neck. She mewls sweetly as his tongue tastes her. Sweet girl tastes like caf-</p><p>“Commander Fox-“ Fox has missed the tell-tale slide of the door and curses mentally.</p><p>Mouse makes a distressed noise as the deep voice cuts through the room. She pushes ineffectively against Fox’s chest as he squeezes his eyes shut. Fox doesn’t move as Mouse scoots back enough to slip her legs from around him and rise to her feet. She looks up wide-eyed and accusing, as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Her cheeks are a vivid shade of pink. Her look is one of absolute embarrassment.</p><p>He wants to lean in and kiss her swollen lips again, tell her there’s nothing to fear or worry about because he had her. Of course, he <em>can’t</em> do that but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to. He watches as she smooths her skirt and mutters something about getting back to work.</p><p>Fox can feel eyes burning into his back. He knew the voice as well as he knew his own. Some believed that clones were interchangeable but any person who’d spent any amount of time should be able to tell him or Rex from their other vode. Little things like accents they’d picked, how they worded their thoughts. How they carried themselves.</p><p>“Captain Rex. It’s customary to knock before entering.” Fox spins to see his visitor turning away from his furiously blushing secretary as she scurries past him and out the door.</p><p>“My deepest apologies” What Rex says and his tone don’t exactly match up. Fox has a feeling he’s given the Captain free entertainment and a serious bit of gossip to bring back to the front. “I was unaware you were preoccupied with- such an <em>important</em> engagement.”</p><p>Fox smiles, a thing full of teeth and thinly veiled menace. “I can understand how you wouldn’t understand such things, <em>ner vod</em>.”</p><p>Rex’s helmet shakes and Fox can hear the quick huff of dark laughter that filters through his vocoder before he’s reaching up to remove his helmet. “I’m really sorry about that. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”</p><p>“I was” Fox agrees, moving to sit at his desk and motioning for Rex to sit across from him. He hesitates a moment and Fox wonders if he’s ever been offered a seat in any meeting. Is he relegated to standing over the shoulder of Skywalker like a well healed akk dog? He doesn’t ask. “What can I do for you today?”</p><p>Rex sits straight, his face a composed mask. This wasn’t a social call though that was no different from any interactions they’d had before.</p><p>“I need to apologize for the incident with my shinies.” The stiff pseudo apology catches Fox off guard. He sits quietly for a moment. The two clones staring at one another.</p><p>“Ok.”</p><p>“Ok? That’s it?” Rex’s voice is wary.</p><p>“Am I supposed to throw a fit? Yell and scream that I want their buckets on a platter? What would you have me say Captain?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose, “look I get it. Trust me. Since-“ he angles away from the other clone. “I get I’m not ever going to win a popularity contest and yeah, it was not kriffing fun. Actually, it was about the least amount of fun I’ve had in a while but what am I supposed to demand? Demotion? Reconditioning?”</p><p>Rex flinches at the last word.</p><p>“Exactly” Fox feels as if he’s made his point. “So if that’s all you wanted…” he lets the words hang in the air between them. Rex closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.</p><p>“That’s not it.”</p><p>Fox can feel what’s coming next, always knew it would come.</p><p>“I need to know about that day. I need to know why you killed Fives.”</p><p>The Captain’s stare is unyielding and Fox feels like he’s under a microscope, rigid and without escape while the clone across from him dissects each move and every word he’s about to say. He’s never backed down for a fight in his life but right now, right here? He wants to do nothing more than get away.</p><p>“He had a gun.” Fox draws a steadying breath but his voice comes out shaky and he’s disgusted at his own weakness washes over him. “I told him to stand down. I told him to get on his knees. Even after he grabbed the kriffing thing I told him not to do it. I-“</p><p>“Why didn’t you just stun him” Rex’s voice rises above his, anger bleeding into every word as he leans forward, planting his hands on the desk as he rises to his feet.</p><p>The invasion of space throws Fox off. He rolls his shoulders briefly trying to ease the tension that was growing there. The spot behind his eyes throbs. “The settings were wrong. I- I don’t know how but the kriffing setting was wrong.”</p><p>“And I’m supposed to believe that”</p><p>Something in the arch of the captain’s brow, the accusatory nature of what he was in insinuating sparks white hot rage in Fox’s chest. The photos on the wall rattle as he rises to his feet, his fist meeting the wall behind him.</p><p>“What are you saying?!”he asks turning on the blonde clone. “Are you inferring that I had it out for him? A vod I’d never met? That I went looking to kill a brother?”</p><p>Rex flinches back. Fox’s knuckles throb. He focuses on the growing ache, uses it to stay grounded. His voice is low, a pained snarl.</p><p>“His death will never leave me. I pulled the trigger that ended his life. Do you know- can you understand what that feels like?”</p><p>“He said this was bigger than us” Rex pushes on, seemingly paying no mind to what Fox had said.</p><p>“And that means I was in on a conspiracy?”</p><p>“Damn it, Fox” Rex growls, “you said you don’t know how your blaster ended up throwing bolts!”</p><p>Something about that catches Fox right in the gut, steals air from his lungs. As quickly as his rage had swollen it subsides and he’s left to sink back down to his desk, forehead cradled in his head.</p><p>“Bigger than us” he repeats Rex’s words- Fives words- quietly.</p><p>“He mentioned a conspiracy to Kix” the blonde clone doesn’t sit but he’s posture loosens.</p><p>“Conspiracy?”</p><p>“Something that went all the way to the top. Said the clones and the Jedi were in great danger.”</p><p>“Tell me more.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“For the love of Fett-“ Fox shoves the datapad away in a fit of disgust. Three others sit nearby. He was missing something and he was starting to wonder if it wasn’t his mind.</p><p>There was a piece he just didn’t have. Rex hadn’t been able to provide it, only given him more questions.</p><p>It’s well past the end of his work day but Fox can’t let it rest. He drags a holopad back. This one contains footage, surveillance of the ARC trooper from before everything had come to a head. There had to be something he was meeting, someone somewhere in the background. A hint of anything to go off of.</p><p>But there wasn’t. He’d watched the same blurry, looped feed six times already and nothing new presented itself.</p><p>That was the definition of madness wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results.</p><p>“Fox?” Mouse’s voice cuts through the noise on his head. “It’s getting late. Let it be for the day.”</p><p>He raises a brow at the order. Not her usual gentle question. He’s not feeling playful or amorous and she seems to mirror it in the way she stands across the room, her distance from him speaking volumes and making his stomach clench uncomfortably. He’d give anything right now just to lose himself in the soft plains of her body, let the sounds of their passion drown out the voices inside his head that said he was failing.</p><p>“Can’t.” He gruffs, pulling another datapad over and flipping through the screen. Redacted black lines take up the entirety of it and any attempt to bypass is left with a flashing red ‘access denied’. He snarls lowly.</p><p>“<em>Alverde</em>?” the term throws him off. His Little Mouse didn’t speak any Mando’a. She offers a small smile at his bewildered expression.</p><p>“Wren taught me a few things.”</p><p>His stomach clenches again, sour and dispeptic. Had they talked about what he’d said in the heat of the moment? He couldn’t explain himself now. Couldn’t have the conversation if she wanted too. There was too much he needed to-</p><p>Mouse’s hand softly cradles his cheek. He flinches away. He hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. Maybe he was too tied up in his own thoughts. The look on her face is hurt. It’s the only way to describe it, like he hadn’t pulled away but in reality had slapped her.</p><p>He grabs for her hand quickly, grip tight at her wrist. He presses a firm kiss to the back of her hand and then more along her knuckles until he feels the muscles in her arm begin to relax. Mouse sighs tiredly. Yeah, he could understand that. She moves to perch on the edge of the desk.</p><p>“It’s been a long day but I need to figure this out.” He tries to explain.</p><p>“Is this about Captain Rex?” The 501st Officer had not left a good impression on Mouse if her eyes glaring daggers at his <em>shebs</em> as he’d left had told the story.</p><p>“This is about us all.” Fox corrects, saying aloud for the first time what was truly at stake or, at least, what he’d come to believe. “The Jedi, the clones, my brothers-“</p><p>Mouse sits, looking away from him and to the datapad.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be looking at these.” He says after a minute, though he doesn’t move to close anything out. Mouse raises a brow at him before getting up to pull the chair from the other side of the desk around next to him. He’d rather she be in his lap. Even next to him feels too far away. He can’t bring himself to act on it.</p><p>“Why are all these about the ARC trooper?” She questions, not validating his observation with a response. She knew as well as he did that this was far beyond any clearance she had.</p><p>Fox’s jaw clenches. He needed to tell her to go. This wasn’t for her to see but he can’t because he’s weak for her. Having her near may flare some nerves but her presence alone calms so many others.</p><p>“You’re looking at this like Fives was the lynchpin in whatever plot you’ve got brewing.” She traces the image of the clone softly and Fox feels a flare of something ugly in the soft brush of her fingers against the datapad. “He was young, fresh from ARC training. Where would he find someone to conspire with?” She makes a point.</p><p>Maybe he’d been looking at this wrong, “so your saying, Fives wasn’t a conspirator, he just-“</p><p>“-got mixed up in it. Did the Captain say when they started noticing him acting strange?”</p><p>“After the clone, Tup, turned on his Jedi-“ Fox pauses for a minute. He’s already said too much so he decides, kriff it, and says it all “he was <em>sick</em>, they thought. Sent him to Kamino for- Rex said he wasn’t right after Tup died there.”</p><p>“But Fives didn’t think Tup was sick,” Mouse says quietly. Fox looks at her not for the first time and wishes he’d never laid a hand on her because now she was in this and he wanted her too kriffing much to make her go. If this was high level stuff, something cooked up by higher military personnel, than it was more dangerous than she’d ever know.</p><p>“Who do you think is responsible?”</p><p>Now that was the question of the hour. All the way to the top? Tarkin’s name comes to mind first and foremost. The man oozed hunger for power, latched onto any he could get and clung to it fiercely with thin skeletal fingers. Wulff Yularen was another probable candidate but he didn’t seem to stand out so much as Tarkin did. Maybe it was by design? Maybe Yularen has grown weary of being held at heel by the Jedi Order. Maybe he thought he could do better. It was a possibility but still it didn’t feel likely.</p><p>The Kaminoans had discouraged young clones from pacing, it was an i<em>nefficient use of metabolized energy</em> and unnecessary for such high functioning merchandise. Fox found it to be the best way to think. The act of motion helped to center his thoughts, form them into something clear and concise instead of a tangled, jumbled mess. He rises to his feet and begins the short path back and forth across the office.</p><p>He needed access to the redacted files. His clearance- top secret- should have cleared all of that for him but it had barely scratched the surface of the files. They were utterly useless as they were now. He’d need them opened. If it was one of the admirals preparing for some sort of military coup he wouldn’t be able to go to them, while Yularen may comply with his request Tarkin thought too little of clones to agree even if he wasn’t implicitly involved. If they were working together any request would expose him to the full wrath they were capable of bringing down.</p><p>No. He needed to go higher. The Supreme Chancellor could get the files opened or at least find the one to order too. It was a matter of galactic security, even though Fox wasn’t a great fan of the Chancellor personally he trusted the man to do what was in the galaxy's best interest. That was what he’d sworn an oath to do.</p><p>A warm hand slides over his. He startles. Again. He was too on edge for any of this. Mouse looks up with worried eyes.</p><p>“Fox-“</p><p>“I need you to go home.” He’s brisk, erasing any tenderness from his voice. She does a good job of hiding the cringe at his words. He needed her to stop looking at him with those big, trusting eyes. Eyes that held all her faith in him. If she didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to push her away again. Even now it hurt, felt like he was carving out a part of his heart with a dull vibroblade. He couldn’t drag her any further into this no matter how much he did- how much he did care for her.</p><p>He could not allow her to be in danger. If something happened to her- he just wouldn’t allow it to happen. Even if he had to be cold to do it. He’d make it up to her after the conspiracy had been laid to rest. When it was safe to have her at his side again. It physically hurts his head, his chest, and even down to the marrow of his bones to place what he <em>wants</em> (but now he’s more afraid that it’s moved on to a need) to the back burner for any reason.</p><p>“Mouse go home. <em>Yours</em>.” He clarifies before she can ask. “You can’t- I don’t need you here.” Fox is surprised he can lie so convincingly.</p><p>“Fox-“</p><p>“-No” his voice is sharp and Mouse flinches, he almost misses it as small as it is. All the same it’s like a punch to the gut. “Go home. I don’t want you here.” It’s amazing he’s able to get the words out. He’s never lied so completely in his entire decade of life. He feels like a <em>hut’uun</em> as Mouse turns away. She doesn’t fight him on it and he wants her too. He wants her to yell or rage. He wants her to fight to be with him.</p><p>His Mouse is smarter than that. She’s better than that. His <em>cyar’ika</em> knows him better than he knows himself he worries- he hopes- because the small sounds she’s making as she leaves the office sound like a broken heart.</p><p>——</p><p>It’s been a long time since Ranna had been made to feel so small. She'd never handled rejection well. Her mother had been very cognizant of it and, after she'd lost her, the children’s home attendants had learned quickly. Ranna had always just been sensitive and any kind of harsh treatment made her mind push into shut down mode.</p><p>In a year working at Fox’s side he’d never so much as volleyed a cross word her way.</p><p><em>He hadn’t just then</em>, her brain supplies helpfully.</p><p>That wasn’t how it felt. It was as if he’d slammed the door in her face. The sweetness he’d shown over the last week was gone as if she'd only just come into his acquaintance. It kriffing hurt. That’s what it did. It hurt. Especially after the talk she'd had with Wren earlier in the day.</p><p>Ranna wipes at her eyes as she takes the elevator to the nearest speeder platform and waits for a taxi to loop around. A chill rises up from the lower levels and she can't fight the light shiver that wriggles up her spine. She thinks back to the previous night, the emotion that had bled through Fox’s words as he held her in his arms. The depth of what she'd felt when Wren had translated them earlier.</p><p><em>Forever</em>.</p><p>That was the word that rolled around in her head and her heart. Maybe that was just the heat of the moment falling from his lips? Of course she didn’t want forever.</p><p>This was too young, too new. Of course Fox didn’t mean it. Time away from one another would be good, breed perspective. Maybe she was just drunk off the newness of it all, the feeling of being wanted by such a strong individual.</p><p>That was all.</p><p>It was good to separate herself from the situation. She needed to be alone so she could think clearly and reevaluate what she thought she knew.</p><p>By the time the door of the cab is popping open Ranna has almost completely convinced her heart that it was in the wrong.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>———-</p><p>Fox wakes at his desk, still in full armor with the exception of his helmet off to the side, at 0400. His back protests the first attempt to move into motion and he’s forced to stretch slowly before trying again. His vertebrae pop loudly in protest. He has to agree with them. Falling asleep draped over the duraplast was a rotten idea, certainly less inviting than other sleeping arrangements he’d made over the last week. He doesn’t allow himself to think of Mouse. Definitely, not the way she’d left him the night before.</p><p>There was too much riding on his time with the Supreme Chancellor today to allow anything to distract him. He needed more access, to reopen the case. To be given the freedom to investigate like he hadn’t had previously, like he hadn’t pushed for.</p><p>He makes his way down to the barracks, shucking his armor and blacks the second he’s clear of the door. The ‘fresher is his first stop. There’s barely an ounce of heat to the stream of water that pelts him. The cool blast wakes him faster than any cup of high-octane caf ever could. He’s efficient, clean and with a towel slung around his hips in no time flat like he’d been taught on Kamino.</p><p>Next, he runs a razor over his face. He doubted he’d be taking his bucket off but if it came to that, Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t see anything other than the absolute pinnacle of military excellence. To complete the effect he takes the clippers, trimming the short hairs around his temple and back of his head back into regs. He pauses before he gets to the hair at his crown. It was getting longer, not yet floppy but more to the length than he’d traditionally allow.</p><p>Mouse had mentioned how she’d liked running her fingers through it as it had slowly grown over the last week. She liked the feel of it between her fingers and he couldn’t argue. He liked the feel of it between her fingers as well. He leaves it be and packs the razor and clippers away before retrieving clean blacks from his closet and fitting his armor back into place. He makes a point of shining the visor to a glossy mirror finish.</p><p>A yawn creeps past his lips and Fox takes a longing look at his bed but he knows if he lays back down now he’d be even worse for wear when he got up. No sleep was better than too much sleep as far as he was concerned. He had ways to fight the fatigue. Today was a day for caf and stims, maybe not in that order.</p><p>Like any good trooper, Fox kept half a dozen stims in a belt pocket for emergencies. On Coruscant they weren’t as likely to use them as the clones in off-world war zones but they did get used from time to time. There was nearly no feeling better than riding a stim high, comparable to a good night’s sleep, three square meals, and a good hot shower. A single stim would make you feel ready to take on the world single-handedly. That’s what he needed today. He pops the little blue and red capsule dry, swallowing it down quick.</p><p>By the time he’s to the cafeteria Fox is already beginning to feel the effects of the stims in his system. He no longer has to focus to keep his feet from shuffling, his back feels straight and strong, and his focus is laser sharp. It doesn’t do much for the anxiety that’s been slowly eating at him since Rex showed up yesterday but it gives him the mental fortitude to pack every kriffing nerve and down, down, down burying it so deep below the surface that he can confidently pretend it doesn’t exist.</p><p>He downs a ration bar and a cup of caf without breaking his stride, the few clones already present and eating offer respectful greetings and Fox returns them with a quick nod. His <em>vode</em>. This is who he needed to get to the bottom of this for. He needed to keep them safe, make sure they had a future to work towards.</p><p>It’s nearly 0630 by the time Fox is parking his speeder in the garage of the main senate complex. No matter what the time of day Coruscanti traffic, particularly around the Senate, was a nightmare. Not for the first time, Fox wonders what it might be like in another world, a place where the city isn’t a hodgepodge of thousands of levels dating back to who knew how many centuries past. What must it be like to see green pastures and vast waters, a place that was more scenic than scene?</p><p>His mind is firing on too many cylinders and he takes a moment and a deep breath to refocus. The stims are working their magic now and it was his job to focus it to precision, not let it run amok.</p><p>The clones at both security checkpoints entering into the building give him a thorough once over even as they recognize him as their Commander. He’s pleased. If they did this to him it meant they treated everyone entering the same, a possible threat until proven otherwise. The safety of the senators and their staff depended on his men.</p><p>His boots echo against the fine marble floor as he makes his way to the Supreme Chancellor’s offices. The turbo lift takes him to the top of the building and he encounters one last checkpoint before he’s able to enter. It’s nearly 0730.</p><p>Palpatine is busy at his desk when Fox enters. He waits at parade rest for a handful of minutes until the chancellor completes whatever task he’d been set on and looks up.</p><p>“Commander” he greets pleasantly, “you're early. I wasn’t expecting you til at least the turn of the hour.”</p><p>“I can come back if I-“</p><p>Palpatine waves him off. “No, my young friend. Come closer. It will be nice to have the company before the business of the day begins.”</p><p>The informality makes Fox uncomfortable. He lowers himself into the seat he’s motioned too. “I’m afraid I do have some business for you this morning” Fox stares straight ahead, he’s glad he’s got his bucket on, even so, when the chancellor looks at him he feels as if the old man is looking through it.</p><p>“Well that is unfortunate but, part of the grand scheme of things I suppose. What is it? I did hope I’d hear more about the lady love I’d encouraged you to pursue our last meeting.”</p><p>The smile he gives makes Fox feel like squirming. His gaze is more assessing than friendly. Fox thinks of how precarious the situation is. His <em>vode</em>, the Jedi, Mouse.</p><p>“Any relationship would be wholly inappropriate given my standing within the GAR and the greater Republic, sir” it’s a deflective answer, neither admittance nor denial of what was going on. A brief flash of, what can only be annoyance, flashes across the chancellor’s face. Then it’s gone as if it had never existed.</p><p>“I’ve gathered new intel on the case of CT-5555.” That earns him a raised look, as the chancellor leans back in his seat.</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Fox watches as the chancellor pushes up from his seat, he moves slowly. His weakness on display in the slight hitch in his gait, the way he holds a hand to the warm wood of his desk for a moment too long to maintain his balance. He moves to stand in front of the large transparisteel windows, turning his back to Fox as he looks out over Coruscant. “I was led to believe that all the pertinent information in that case had already been obtained. The case was closed last I was made aware.”</p><p>“And it still is” Fox leans forward in his seat, gloves planted against his knees, “some new information has come to light and, well, the case is so severely redacted I’m having trouble slotting it in or making any sense of it.”</p><p>“What kind of <em>information</em>?”</p><p>A dull throb, flares into existence at the base of Fox’s skull. Nothing as horrible as some of the headaches he’s endured previously but worrying all the same as the stims should have brought it to a screeching halt. He blinks once. Twice. It takes a moment to set his head straight.</p><p>“Captain Rex of the 501st-“</p><p>“Skywalker’s Captain?”</p><p>“Yes sir.” He hates the way the chancellor interrupts nearly as much as he hates the way his <em>vode</em> are spoken of as belonging to the Jedi. “Captain Rex has some insight into the clones behavior leading up to the incident. He says he filed a report but I’m unable to find any such thing in the case files.”</p><p>“The case is closed, my boy” the chancellor’s tone has developed a chill. Fox wishes he could see his face but the old man doesn’t turn away from the window.</p><p>“You could have it opened. This is a matter of galactic importance.” Fox pushes, feeling desperation rising in his chest along with his heart rate but he can’t stop to think about that. He has to make the Chancellor understand. Now was not a time to hold back, “I believe there is a threat building within the GAR itself. A conspiracy to bring down the clone army and the Jedi.” The pressure in his head is increasing. It’s moving about, hopping from one point to another.</p><p>“The case is closed, Commander Fox.”</p><p>“Chancellor- I-“ he fights back a wave of nausea. The Chancellor’s voice is all around him. It’s in him, echoing off the insides of his skull.</p><p>“Commander Fox, you don’t want to look any further into this matter.”</p><p>Fox rises to his feet quickly. His head spins as he drags in a ragged breath. His lungs feel pressed tight as if they’d been placed in a vice, “I need to-“</p><p>“You do not need to continue to push this matter. The case is closed. You did a thorough review and found nothing.”</p><p>Fox cocks his head. The tension breaks with an awful clarity. The pressure eases, like the sky becoming clear after a late afternoon storm, “I did review the file. Nothing new was there.”</p><p>The Chancellor turns and offers him a grin. “You’re a <em>good</em> soldier, Commander Fox.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir.”</p><p>“Now, tell me, how much <em>assistance</em> did your precious secretary offer for your research?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today hadn’t started well and Ranna was already so far past caring it was insane.</p><p>She didn’t care she'd woken up on the couch in her clothes from the day before, rumpled and wrinkled beyond salvage, her mascara a messy mask under her eyes.</p><p>She didn’t care that she'd spent the better part of her first hour at the office staring out the transparisteel window into the skylane that ran not far from where she sat, watching transports and speeders for by in a soothing blur.</p><p>She didn’t care about the tartness in her voice when the 501st Captain had comm’d stating it was important that he speak with Commander Fox <em>immediately</em>. Ranna had told him, in no uncertain terms, that what the Commander had on the schedule for today was of the utmost importance and that she would make sure he got the message when he got in.</p><p>In retrospect, maybe she’d been a bitch, latent embarrassment from the peep show he'd unintentionally received the day prior still simmering but, really, he hadn’t even offered an apology and the muffled yelling behind closed doors hadn’t done much to place him in her good graces either.</p><p>Ranna tried not to replay the night before. She’d done that plenty on the ride home. All the same, she let it play through again in her head. Now, looking at it in the light of day and with more clarity. The way the anxiety had been almost palpable when she’d first entered the room hadn’t seemed so obvious at the time-</p><p>“Ma’am?”</p><p>A portly woman is standing a few feet away smiles politely. Ranna's face flushes.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Daydreaming.” She explains with a forced smile and a lie “what can I do for you?” A movement behind the woman catches her eye. A tiny green hand clings to the women’s slacks as equally green eyes peek around her thick leg.</p><p>“I’m Sukin Maly with level 504 children’s home. I was told this was Commander Fox’s office?” She’s pleasant looking as she glances back at the child clinging to her before focusing on Ranna. Lines pull at the corner of her eyes letting her know she was a woman who enjoyed smiling a lot and often.</p><p>The child slowly rounds the woman’s thigh and Ranna watches with delight as she recognizes the twi’lek girl from the pictures Fox had shown her. Pushing away from the desk she moves closer, crouching down and offering her hand. Wide eyes look from the offered hand to the attendant who gives a small nod. The girl hesitantly takes it and Ranna gives it a gentle shake before looking back up to her minder.</p><p>“I’m afraid the Commander is out of the office today.” The woman gives an understanding smile as Ranna turns to the little girl.</p><p>“I think I know who you are.” She offers conspiratorially, “are you Me’kar? You made quite the impression on Commander Fox.”</p><p>The child's little lekku wriggle happily at the sound of her name.</p><p>The children’s attendant says something in Ryl Ranna doesn’t understand. Me’kar’s tiny hands go to the top of each lek and she makes little ears with her fingers.</p><p>“Fox” she says clear as day in basic.</p><p>Ranna can’t help but laugh and Me'kars smile brightens as she repeats the word over and over.</p><p>“She’s picking it up quickly”, Sukin explains “but that seems to be her favorite word.</p><p>“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s mine too” Ranna says softly as the child bounces in front of the older woman.</p><p>”it’s nice to meet you both. My name is Ranna. I'm Commander Fox's friend" she explains before focusing on Me'kar, “but you can call me Mouse if you’d like. Everyone around here does.”</p><p>This brings a peel of laughter bubbling up in the child as the Sukin translates. Me'kar holds her hands in front of her like tiny paws and wiggles her little green button of a nose before making a squeaking noise. “Mouse,” she giggles.</p><p>Ranna laughs as little green hands pull a stuffed tooka out of the bag draped across tiny shoulders.</p><p>“Cat. Meow.” Me'kar says proudly, holding the raggedy stuffy up. “Fox kiss better.”</p><p>Sukin laughs at the secretaries confused look and furrowed brow. “She was quite taken that the Commander gave her kitten kisses when it was scared.”</p><p>Ranna fight back a laugh at the image. “I wish he was here to see you. He’s going to be disappointed he missed such an important visitor.” The girl’s smile fades as Sukin translates but only for a moment before she’s digging back in her bag for a folded piece of flimsy.</p><p>“Fox” she says proudly as she unfolds the flimsy, finally holding up an image she’d obviously been very proud of. It’s rough but Ranna can very clearly make out little Me’kar and Fox drawn as brightly colored stick figures. Fox’s helmet is so large that the weight of it looks like it will break his little stick body in half at any moment, maybe it’s the small green hand intertwined with his red one that stops it from happening.</p><p>It's enough to make any woman's ovaries implode. It is the single most adorable thing Ranna thinks she's ever seen and she willingly takes it as Me'kar turns to her minder and speaks in rapid Ryl.</p><p>“She’d like you to give it to the Commander.”</p><p>“Please?”</p><p>Saying ''no was never going to be an option and Ranna nods readily before the child attaches herself to her waist, arms circling the expanse in a mighty hug. Ranna pats the top of her head, “how about this? I give him this” She wiggles the picture, “and we set something up so you and your friends can come a different day when I know the Commander and his friends will be here? You could eat lunch in the big cafeteria and maybe they could give you a tour?”</p><p>Me’kar can barely contain herself as the older woman translates. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She spins and bounces with excitement and Sukin hurries to calm her. </p><p>Ranna doesn't even attempt to hide her smile. Comms are traded with the Sukin and Ranna promises to be in touch after speaking with the Commander to set something up. Me’kar waves manically, turning and pulling every few steps when It’s time to leave.</p><p>“Bye Mouse! Bye!”</p><p>It’s the first bright spot in Ranna's day and she clings to the swelling feeling in her heart as she returns to sorting out the mess that was the day to day operations of the Coruscant Guard.</p><p>——-</p><p>The aide arrives early afternoon. Ranna has only just finished lunch and is busy repacking the lunch bag when she sees him coming down the hall. The upturned nose and refined, high-end clothing scream politician from 20 klicks away. He's feet away from her desk before his eyes even move to her.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Commander Fox-“ She begins her usual explanation and is quickly cut off.</p><p>“Your presence is requested this afternoon in the office of the Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.”</p><p>The request strikes her as odd immediately both in its formality and, if by the way the aide is staring, its presumed immediacy.</p><p>Ranna was not an individual that ever had any right being in the same room as someone as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor, not because she felt herself unworthy or less than, but simply because she had nothing to offer to a politician who dealt with the complexities of running a galactic system.</p><p>She informs the aide gently that he is likely in the wrong place, has the wrong person.</p><p>He huffs impatiently, “Ranna Criss? That is your name correct?”.</p><p>She nods mutely.</p><p>“Than, miss, I believe I am in the right place and the Chancellor is well aware of who you are.”</p><p>Something sours in her stomach. She wishes Fox or one of the boys were around because something just seems off.</p><p>“We could do this a different time?” She questions hopefully, retrieving her datapad and flipping open the calendar, “I really shouldn’t be leaving halfway through my day the Commander-.”</p><p>“- is with the Chancellor awaiting your arrival.”</p><p>Well, ok, so that didn't work. She knew that, didn’t she? She had been the one answering comms for Fox all day. So why did her stomach flip and lurch? Maybe because she'd expect Fox to contact her with a heads up or, knowing him, send one of the kits to collect her.</p><p>“So, like now?” She clarifies after a moment.</p><p>The aide’s foot begins an impatient rhythm, toes tapping irritably against the floor, “like, <em>now</em>.” He repeats pointedly.</p><p>She tries to ignore his demeanor, he probably wasn’t used to playing go-for and certainly not used to anyone doing anything less than jumping at a chance to meet the Chancellor. Still, she doesn’t move with any great urgency. Maybe had he been a little nicer or the request not been so abnormal to begin with. She moves slow, making a point of locking down the datapads and grabbing her old leather coat and bags, ignoring his sigh when he glances at his chrono.</p><p>He never introduces himself. Not as she follows a step behind down the halls, not as she climbs into the sleek black speeder on the landing platform. Hound And Rule are parking a pair of speeder bikes. Rule gives a questioning look.  Ranna shrug’s nervously and smile as their helmets both cock to the side in tandem. Hound looks like his namesake, be it with a more viscous paint job. Ranna thinks she could laugh if she wasn't so kriffing nervous. It’s stupid. This wasn’t exactly normal, but aside from a rude, nameless aide this was nothing worse than heading to an inter-office meeting.</p><p>Why couldn’t she shake the feeling that she was about to get in trouble, like a child being called to the principal's office than? Her fingers fumble as she buckles the restraint across her chest. She barely has a chance to wave to the two Guardsmen, still looking her way, before the speeder is diving into the skylane and heading toward the Senate Executive building.</p><p>The ride is quiet. Any attempt to make small talk is met with a simple yes or no, a few things are even ignored completely. If this guy was intending on going into politics he’d need to take a class or two on how to fake interest in his constituents.</p><p>The speeder comes to a stop at the Supreme Chancellor’s private platform and Ranna is ushered off without fanfare.</p><p>“Don’t we need to check in with security?” The questions seems obvious, no one was supposed to come in or out of the building without the proper clearance and checks. Even she knew that.  Her  collector opens the door to what can only be the Chancellor’s suite, a rich expanse of room and excess that doesn’t allow her eyes a moment to relax or focus on one point.</p><p>“That won’t be necessary, unless you feel like you need to be scanned and patted down?” He raises brow and she can't help but look away embarrassed.</p><p>“No- of course not. Just protocol-“</p><p>“The Supreme Chancellor sets his own protocols.” He explains as they move further into the office. The large wall of transparisteel looks out over the very tops of buildings she knew to tower high about the highest heights of the Coruscanti top level. It’s breathtaking.</p><p>The decorations are ostentatious, with a very strong splash of deep red everywhere- from the carpeting to the tapestries interspersed on the walls. Bronzium statues sit atop marble stands, their twisted faces and gnarled figures seem out of place amongst all the finery.</p><p>“This way, please.”</p><p>She hadn’t realized she's d slowed to gawk and moves to pick up the pace from where she’d fallen back. She offers a small apology that goes unacknowledged as the politician-to-be presses through an imposing set of doors. On the other side is more transparisteel, more red.</p><p>And the Chancellor.</p><p>The aide closes the doors behind her and Ranna is left staring at the the Supreme Chancellor.</p><p>Sheev Palpatine sits with his hands folded nearly against the dark wood in front of him looking as if he’d been waiting for her to arrive. </p><p>“My dear girl!” He rises to greet, moving carefully around his desk.</p><p>Ranna's first thought is that he was not nearly as tall as she'd imagined he’d be. On the holonet he looked every bit as tall as any of the clones that served as his guards. in reality, he’s only a head taller than she was she notes as he reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle shake. She smiles weakly, a spark of something uncomfortable and disquieting burning in her belly.</p><p>“Supreme Chancellor” She inclines her head to break the uncomfortably intense eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”</p><p>“She is a beautiful little creature, Commander.” Palpatine intones looking past her, ignoring her greeting.</p><p>Ranna glances quickly over her shoulder to see Fox standing at attention next to the door She’d walked through only seconds before. It was a wonder she hadn’t noticed him immediately but with all the red bleeding through the room it was no great difficulty for him to camouflage she thinks. He tips his helmet. He seems stuff but she chalks it up to the level of professionalism he kept and their need to keep their relationship undercover. Regardless of his disinterested stance, just his presence does something to calm her nerves. Any residual anxiety about the state their relationship seems to dissolve as she looks at him. When she turn back to the Chancellor the smile she wears is genuine.</p><p>The chancellor’s is still questionable as he cups her elbow and leads her toward his desk. The soft clatter of plastoid armor follows behind. Ranna can feel Fox behind her, can almost imagine his all too familiar body heat radiating along her back. She fights the urge to let her hand sweep behind her in an attempt to capture his own.</p><p>“My dear, the good Commander speaks very highly of you.”</p><p>“I think very highly of him” She murmurs fighting the urge to look behind her.</p><p>“Very good. Very good. Have a seat and we’ll begin our little meeting.”</p><p>The chair is plush and comfortable. When the Chancellor sits down across the desk she notices that his chair is positioned slightly higher than her own, making him appear as if he was looking down on her. The desk is fairly clean, only a handful of datapads and some neatly organized flimsy. Next to everything is a gleaming blaster. It’s hard to keep her eyes from skimming over it. She’d sat through enough conversations with Hound and Ryk to not recognize a hold-out blaster when she saw one.</p><p>“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Blas-Tech, I believe.” The chancellor motions toward the blaster but Ranna shakes her head. As much as she's been privy to conversations about the different makes and models, she’d never really become comfortable with the actual blasters themselves. “Well suit yourself” the chancellor shakes his head gently picking up the blaster and making a show of turning it in the light. It’s small, most hold-outs were. “A gift from one of the Corellian delegates” he continues “a very thoughtful gift but I personally find blasters rather <em>uncivilized</em>.” He makes a show of setting it down within Ranna's reach.</p><p>“I see” She fights a losing battle not fidget in her seat, “I really don’t want to waste any of your time. I’m sure you have far more important-“</p><p>“- this is of the <em>utmost</em> importance, I’m afraid” there’s something about the almost apologetic look on his face- or maybe it’s the slight cooling of his tone- either way, it effectively washes away any comfort that knowing Fox was near had provided.</p><p>“I’m afraid, I’m not sure what this conversation is about.”</p><p>A scoff crosses the length of the desk as the Chancellor looks past to Fox. “She is very tricky isn’t she Commander? Had I known you couldn’t see past a simple deception I would never have encouraged you to pursue her.”</p><p>“My apologies, my Lord” Fox’s voice is cool and emotionless, not the rich baritone Ranna had grown accustomed to. Warning klaxons sound in her head.</p><p>“Sir?”</p><p>“Oh, dear girl there’s no use hiding it any longer.”</p><p>Ranna can feel the sudden lurch in her chest, her heart rate slowly creeping up, moving more close to the rate of her namesake than she was comfortable with. She makes an attempt to rise to her feet but a pair of  familiar gauntlets come down over shoulders and press her back into the chair that no longer feels comfortable.</p><p>The chancellor rises and moves toward the windows, his fine robes swing around him as he goes. Ranna's eyes follow his backlit figure carefully. Pressure builds at the back of her skull, a wholly inopportune moment for a headache to present itself if there had ever been one. She shakes her head gently in an attempt to dislodge it. The chancellor laughs. A cold shock travels down her spine.</p><p>“You’ve used your position and your wiles to lead the Commander astray” he begins “you’ve filled his head full of ideas of conspiracies and plots that don’t exist. And for what, might I ask?”</p><p>When Ranna turns and look up at Fox he’s staring down  through the dark lens of his visor, it's polished surface shows her confused, wide eyes staring back at herself. She wilsl him to say something, anything. She needs him to say that he didn't buy any of the madness the Chancellor was spouting. Surely this was a mistake.</p><p>“Fox, you can’t believe this?” She turns toward Palpatine, “this is a mistake. I’m not sure where this has come from-“</p><p>“-So I shouldn’t believe that you gathered the data for the Commander? That you didn’t read through it <em>unlawfully</em> and offer your own silly ideas as to what happened after our best investigators found that the ARC trooper acted against the Republic? That he was, indeed, intent on assassignation?” The chancellor’s voice grows louder as he speaks.</p><p>Ranna's mouth gapes as he continues.</p><p>“Should the Commander not be made aware that you’ve used his <em>affection</em> to manipulate a good soldier into believing that the Grand Army, the highest level of military excellence in the galaxy, was intent on destroying not only his brothers but the entire Jedi order?”</p><p>Fox’s hands disappear from her shoulders and Ranna jumps to her feet, the chair pushing back, forcing him to take a step away or be hit with it. His hand rests at his hip, fingers wrapped around the grip of his blaster. The pressure on the back of her head intensifies, burns.</p><p>“You used me” the words are a broken snarl, an injured animal fighting back. “You made me love you so you could what? Tell me damnit!” Fox's body is drawn tight, coiled like a spring ready to snap.</p><p>“Fox, this isn’t right-“</p><p>Palpatine’s voice rises over the pair. “I’ll tell you Commander. She came with the intent of finishing what the ARC trooper started. She was a conspirator.” The word conspirator is hissed out. Fox’s head jerks than shakes. The heel of his free hand presses against his visor. Ranna wants to reach out to him, find a way to make him understand, to soften the hard lines of his body.</p><p><em>Pick up the blaster</em>.</p><p>A voice, cool and calculating echoes in her mind. Ranna's eyes trail down to the blaster still on the desk,  her fingers flex into a fist, knuckles going white as she fights the urge that she shouldn’t have. The sound of her own heartbeat pounds out a rapid, punishing rhythm in her head, adrenaline beginning to flood her system.</p><p>“She’s here to kill me Commander." The Chancellor's voice is a servants hiss "She is a spy and assassin. How else could she get in here without the guards knowing?”</p><p>Fox’s hand twitches over the stock of his deece. His other hand jerks up to his temple. His voice comes out low, confused. “It hurts”.  </p><p><em>Pick. Up. The. Blaster</em>.</p><p>Ranna's head feels as if it will implode at any moment, the burning only growing worse with each second that passes. Her eyes turn away from Fox and to the Chancellor. A cruel smile twists his mouth, a vicious play on a genuine one. Ranna's brows furrow together as the clanging in her head grows louder.</p><p>“You’re doing this?!” Panic rises in her throat, bile burns it raw as the realization hits. “Why? How? Get out of my head!”</p><p>The pained squeal that slips from her mouth sounds foreign in her own ears, a feral animal sound. “Get out of my head!” She sobs whipping around. Fox, who seems to be struggling on his own, drops down to one knee, bucket cradled in his hands.</p><p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>-“ he sounds small. Ranna wants to make it to stop, would do anything to protect him. His visor rises up to meet her eyes and she swears she can see him clear as day as if it’s not there. He’s her Fox. She needed to help him, help them.</p><p>Because she loves him.</p><p>“How <em>touching</em>” Palpatine’s voice echoes through the room, a perverse pleasure notable in his tone as he sees bears witness to her realization from inside her mind.</p><p>But she loves Fox and the weight of it gives her strength. She pushes harder against the magic slithering in her head.</p><p>“<em>Good soldiers follow orders</em>” Palpatine reminds, voice cold and calculating “Shoot the traitor.”</p><p>“Fox, it’s me.” Ranna begs him to see her. To look at her, “he’s making you believe something that isn’t real. It's me-“ a broken sob bubbles it’s way over her lips, “Fox…”</p><p>Distantly, the sound of blasters and the rising shout of voices becomes clear but she doesn’t have time to discern what’s going on.</p><p>“You will shoot the assassin commander. The blaster is in her hand. Do it, Commander!”</p><p>“Mouse- I- I- can’t” Fox’s voice comes out as if through gritted teeth. His focus is on the the Chancellor and, for one second, Ranna thinks that he might be free and then something snaps and he rises back to his full height. The uncertainty that had been rolling off of him is gone as the hard intensity of his visor is focused on on her.</p><p>“No, no, no…” she mumbles, shaking her head as tears fill her eyes. Ranna's hand covers her mouth in horror as if that alone can hold her grief in. Fox raises his blaster. Desperately Ranna turns to the chancellor. “Please! Please don’t make him do this! I’ll do anything. Please don’t make him!”</p><p>He laughs at her attempt to bargain. She finally does as the voice in you head has willed.</p><p>Ranna grabs the blaster.</p><p>It feels foreign in her grip.</p><p>A scream is torn from her as a bolt from Fox’s deece grazes her left shoulder but her right hand holds tight to the hold-out.</p><p>“PUT IT DOWN! GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!” Fox’s voice booms as she turns back toward him. There’s no way she can get a shot off on the chancellor. “Mouse- please-“ desperation bleeds through Fox's words suddenly and it hurts almost as much as the singed flesh of her arm.</p><p>Ranna raises the blaster to her head, the muzzle pressing in at her temple cooly.  She was going to die. She knows it in her very soul. Now it was only a matter of how and who. It won’t be Fox. Not if it's the last thing she does. She won't allow her blood to be on his hands.</p><p>“DO IT!”</p><p>The doors of the Chancellor’s office explode open, splinters of wood showering down. The sound is deafening, shocking. Ranna's finger leaves the trigger as she tries to understand what's happening.</p><p>Chaos ensues.</p><p>Another blaster bolt hits her in the right flank while her attention is divided. Everything moves in slow motion. The blaster in Fox’s hand shakes as he continues to aim it in her direction. The smell of ozone assaults her senses. The room spins on its own unseen axis.</p><p>The blaster falls from Ranna's fingers with a clatter as she falls to her knees. She can’t breathe. Her mind screams to draw in a breath but her body refuses to comply only allowing shallow, useless gasps.</p><p>Lights flare across the room purple, red, blue. Voices roar to life.</p><p>Electricity tickles at her skin as she presses down over burnt flesh. “Fox…” his name comes out as a whimper as the transparisteel at her back shatters, shards of it bite into her back, burrow deep into flesh. The smell of blood, the coppery tang makes leaves her to heave uselessly.</p><p>Chaos is everywhere, omnipotent and overwhelming. Voices shout, threaten, and yell and Ranna struggles to focus in on any one thing.</p><p>“Don’t take another step, <em>vod</em>!”  The familiar blue and white jaig eyed bucket of Captain Rex appears, twin deeces are aimed at Fox but his blaster is only half pointed, his head cocks then shakes violently. “I said stop, Fox!”</p><p>“It’s not him-“ the words come out in a choked cough, not loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of wind rising up between the buildings and the clashing of Jedi lightsabers. Ranna presses up on one arm and point shakily with an injured left arm. She tries again, “it’s him!”</p><p>Rex’s helmet tips but his blasters remain trained on Fox as Ranna points toward the old man held at the tip of a purple saber.</p><p>She doesn’t have the strength to stay upright. Her right arm crumples and she falls against the red carpet with a gasp. Ranna's shoulder bears the brunt of it causing bright hot pain to shoot anew through her body. When she's able to open her eyes, her blood mixing with the red fibers of the carpet, almost imperceptibly, greets her.</p><p>“Mouse- <em>Fierfek</em>” the gutted sound of Fox’s voice is barely audible “I’m sorry. I’m-“ Hands fly to his throat as the words are cut off. Ranna stares in horror as another man, lip curled back in a snarl, advances on him with hand raised. His robes are dark matching the poisonous look in his eyes.</p><p>“Yes, young Skywalker. Strike him down!” The chancellor’s sickly voice rises up over the winds.</p><p>“Anakin!” The Jedi wielding the purple saber snarls before turning intense eyes back at the chancellor. "Make this stop and the council may show mercy."</p><p>“I am the senate. You will not kill me, Jedi”</p><p>“The senate is overruled”</p><p>The purple saber flashes without hesitation. Ranna chokes back a scream as Sheev Palpatine’s head leaves his body. She struggles, dragging herself toward Fox as his hands claw against his own throat trying to dislodge his invisible assailant.</p><p>“General! Enough!” Rex’s voice rises as she grabs at Fox’s leg pulling herself in front of him.</p><p>“Skywalker” the other man intones quietly. The purple glow retracts as he places a hand over the younger Jedi’s forearm and presses down, “let him go. This wasn’t his doing.”</p><p>Ranna misses the choked cry the younger man bites back because whatever has held Fox at bay releases him and he falls forward, body draping over her protectively.</p><p>The winds still howl, blowing up from the deep wells of Coruscant below but it sounds distant. It doesn’t chill like it had because Fox is with her and he’ll make everything right, her mind offers hopefully.</p><p>She wants to tell him how much she loves him. She wantS to kiss him just once as the darkness presses in at the edges of her vision. It’s a struggle to focus on the lines of his helmet, to pretend she can see through to the cut of his jaw, his full lips -that turn up just so when he smiles- and the soothing browns of his eyes.</p><p>“You don’t get to do this” he whispers angrily between harsh breaths. His arms wrap around her body pulling her close, his nose pressing against her temple. “You don’t get to die because of me”</p><p>She tells him it’s not his fault, or at least she trie. She can’t make her voice work.</p><p>Fox’s lips press roughly behind her ear. A continuous loop of promises and apologies and curses spill from his mouth. Mando’a and basic slur together. Ranna tried to keep her eyes open. She wantS to stay with him. It doesn’t hurt anymore so everything must be ok. Fox has made it ok…</p><p>Someone yells for a medic as the darkness overtakes her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <strong> <em>Current</em> </strong>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>The choices had been fresh ink or gut-rot barracks hooch. Fox chose the ink.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He’s down in the levels, he can’t remember which one exactly, far enough from prying eyes and questioning vod, that was all that had really mattered. The artist, a pantoran with a nice portfolio, was busy laying out the design. He can feel the cool transfer as it’s pressed over his heart and he drags in a ragged breath. This was penance. This was the closure he needed. He’d messed up. For two weeks he’d messed up and now any chance he had was gone along with her.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“You wanna talk about it, man?” The tattoo artist asks as he peels away the flimsy leaving the outline on his skin.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“No”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <strong> <em>Two weeks earlier</em> </strong>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Fox hates the sterile smell of the hospital, the beige walls, the gleaming metal all around. It reminds him of Kamino and a medbay he’d spent more than enough time in. He was never quite as strong or quite as fast as the other CCs in his batch, men that would go on to bear monikers like Gree and Bly and Wolffe. He made up for it in other ways. His mind was sharp, quick to come to a plan of action, he could think on his feet.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He remembers Sargent Kal coming into the CC classroom one day for a talk on urban combat- something that had piqued CC-1010’s interest from the word go- and how by the end of the lesson he’d ended up the star of the day. His observations as they’d talked through scenarios had left Kal remarking that he was “Sly as a Fox” and that the Triple Zero would be a good place for the likes of him. He was only the second in his batch to earn a name and he wore it around like a badge of honor.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Now he didn’t feel so honorable or so sly. He felt a lot of other things though. The psych droid, a loathsome device of he'd ever seen one, had talked him through what had happened in the Supreme Chancellor’s suite. It had questioned him over and over, maybe expecting the answers to change, about what his part in the assassination of Sheev Palpatine had been. He was tired. He wanted to wrap himself around his cyar’ika and pretend the whole day had been a nightmare.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>That was impossible, she was somewhere else in the hospital being treated, shoved into a bacta tank. It had only been Rex’s firm voice that had convinced Fox to let the medic’s anywhere near her. When he’d let them take her limp body away from him-</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p><em>Fierfek</em>.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>The handprint- a bloody partial across the left side of his breastplate, was still there.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Commander Fox” a familiar voice cuts through the silent world of the room“ Much to think about you have“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He recognizes the Jedi Master, Yoda, immediately. There was no one else the ancient green Jedi could be mistaken for.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I prefer to not“ being around a force wielder was not high on Fox’s current list of things to do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Such Is life”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“With all due respect sir,” he can hear the petulance in his own voice but he has neither the energy nor will to rein it in “I didn’t <em>ask</em> for this life.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But given to you it was, nonetheless. Choices you must make with what to do with it.“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox is quiet and the small Jedi Master matches it until the door opens again and General Windu joins the pair. Fox meets his gaze and the Jedi nods solemnly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Much discussion Master Windu and I have had these last few hours-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So it’s back to Kamino then? Reconditioning or Termination?” Fox can’t hide the bitterness in his voice. He doesn’t want to. He wants the world -or at least the two Jedi in the room- to see his pain. To feel it like he was.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Yoda sighs and moves to him, walking stick clicking in time with his steps. He hops up on the cold metal table next to Fox in a way that makes Fox think that the walking stick was not really necessary. He fights the urge to move away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“A great disservice has been done to you, Commander. No, Kamino is not where you belong, deserve punishment you do not.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The words burn. Fox is trapped between relief and a slow simmering rage, one that demands he be punished for his inability to protect those most vulnerable. First Fives. Now Mouse. He failed because he was weak-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop” General Windu’s voice is firm. The look on Fox’s face must read pure terror because the Jedi huffs softly, “I don’t need to see inside your head to know what you're thinking. It’s all over your face. Do you know the kind of power Sidious possessed? To fight off that kind of insinuation would have been nearly impossible and that was before the chip-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The chip?” Fox attempts to rise to his feet but three green fingers press down on his arm. He looks down at the tired, ancient face of the Jedi Master and sits back down. “What of the chip? What has it got to do in all of this?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The answer is simple. <em>Everything</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox sits in cold shock as the Jedi describe to him what they’d learned of Palpatine’s- no, Sidious’ plans for the clone army. He stops them once to go to the bathroom and vomit. It wasn’t just Tup and Fives and him. It was all his <em>vode</em>. The entire clone army programmed to turn on their leaders, their friends with the utterance of a single phrase. He thinks of the hints Bly had made about his Jedi when they’d last spoken.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For a moment it’s more than he can fathom, and he holds a hand up for quiet. The Jedi allow it. He gives himself a minute, just one, before he pulls himself together, before he sits up straight and pushes the anguish, hurt, and the dirty feelings deep down.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What now?” The implications of what has happened are finally becoming clear “The Republic can’t know the truth. There’ll be chaos in the streets. They’ll turn against the clones entirely” Fox worries more for his brothers than ever before. If the citizens knew…</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Correct you are, Commander” Yoda agrees..</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It needs to stay under wraps. The only people that will ever know it was anything other than an sudden death by natural causes will be us and the others that were in that room. Skywalker, Captain Rex, and-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t say her name” it comes out as a growl, “leave her out of this.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There she was, Commander. Secrets she must learn to keep.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox’s nails bite into the palms of his hands, “you won’t-“ he can’t bring himself to say the words.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We will not force thoughts into her head.” Mace clarifies. “From what I’ve heard of her I think she’ll understand our reasoning for secrecy. Her injuries will be said to come from a mugging. You’ll fill out the report. Wrong place wrong time”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Wasn’t that the truth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox nods slowly, “and what of my brothers?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come out the chips must.” Fox flinches when a green finger taps at his temple, “but uncomplicated and quick it is.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We will let it be known that the chips are faulty and to continue to use them puts the clones in danger of having unforeseen medical problems.” Mace’s eyes narrow as Fox scoffs. He raises a brow challengingly, “do you think they’d rather know that they were all ticking timebombs? That at any moment they’d be triggered into mindless killers? Pawns?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A tense moment passes with the two men glaring at one another. Of course Fox doesn’t think that would be any better.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’ll begin rotating troops through the nearest medical units capable of removal immediately.” Mace explains. “We can have the entire Coruscant Guard done by the end of the week and it appears with minimal down time. A day, tops.” He explains.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A quick nod is all the acknowledgement Fox can muster. He doesn’t like the idea of keeping the Guard in the dark and he hates having them undergo any medical procedure even more. He wasn’t the only clone who had lingering emotions when it came to the medbay, not by a long shot.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ll go first.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Jedi at his side makes an agreeable hum. General Windu nods.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“As I would expect a good leader to do.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox isn’t sure how much he buys into their approval.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em> <strong>13 days earlier</strong> </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The official story was that Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had succumbed to a sudden illness. The holonews was ablaze with stories: from the official release to the tabloid fodder. Fellow politicians waxed poetic on him as a man and a leader, someone who stepped forward when the Republic was in its darkest hour to take control of the chaos.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was said his last words were, “and sorry I couldn’t give more for my people and the galaxy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>If Fox’s eyes rolled any harder he was sure they’d fly from his head and ping around in his bucket. Sidious was dead. He didn’t deserve the adoration of billions or the high honors of his burial. He was a <em>hu’tuun. </em>The <em>skanah</em> was better suited as feed for the carrion birds than the marble burial chamber he’s laid to rest in with military honors provided by clones he’d have used as weapons against the very Republic they swore to protect.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <em>10 days earlier</em> </strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Four days without Mouse and Fox feels twitchy. It’s been over a year since he’s gone more than two days without laying eyes on her. Knowing that she was recently released from the bacta tank doesn’t make it any easier. He’d not wanted to see her floating in the tank for a plethora of reasons, the least of which was his own guilt. That didn’t stop him from setting up a guard rotation at her door as soon as he was cleared to return to duty. It also didn’t stop him from demanding regular updates on her care from the kits he was setting up at her room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ryk had been present when she’d been taken out of the tank and said she’d seemed in good spirits as she’d slowly come too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Wren had gently indicated that she’d love some company while she was on bed rest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rule had given him a look that screamed, ‘<em>don’t be a scum sucking piece of nerf fodder.</em>’ As he’d explained that <em>Mous’ika</em> had been asking for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She’d been asking for him. Even after everything she wanted to see him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And he couldn’t do it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’d made his way twice to the nurses station before turning and making an excuse to leave.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He couldn’t look at her. Sidious’ words still swirled in his head. even though General Yoda had reassured him that he was no longer under the sway of the Sith, the thoughts still lingered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>You were supposed to use her to fuck your baser urges out.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>She’s using you to obtain a foothold in the guard.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>She’s fooled you all.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The underlying message was unmistakable.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Why would anyone choose to care for a clone?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox almost wishes the headaches would return so he could focus on the pain in his head vs. that dull empty ache in his chest, a black hole behind his rib cage, but he hasn’t had one since both the Sith Lord and the chip were removed from his life.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>9 days earlier</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bail Organa is voted into the Chancellorship by an overwhelming number of his peers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s the best choice, as far as Fox is concerned. With Senator Amidala announcing a leave of absence to give birth to the best guarded secret since the clone army, it’s the only choice Fox finds acceptable.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Not like anyone would ask his opinion.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Organa is a good man, even if he is a politician. He’s only ever looked out for the Republic, never given in to self indulgent whims, never taken more than he deserved.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox touches the fresh scar on the right side of his head gently as Holonet News continues to replay the new Chancellor's inauguration from earlier. Barely more than a week and everything has changed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>General Windu was correct, medical had been able to get through the entire guard in rapid fire. All of his men were sporting matching scars, many were more than a little curious as to the actual reason their chips had been removed. He’s both insanely proud and horribly frustrated at the theories being bandied about. Some far too close for comfort.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They can never know. Nobody can ever know.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But <em>somehow</em> Bail Organa knows.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s only had one meeting, early this morning before the inauguration, in private with the new Chancellor but he’d alluded to things that left Fox speechless. He’d known Bail to have friends in high places, but he hadn’t realized how high.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Think he’ll do better than the last one?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thire hovers in the doorway, unmoving until Fox inclines his head toward the open seat across his desktop.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Can’t be any worse.” There’s no humor in his tone but Thire huffs out a quiet laugh.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There’s a lag in the conversation, not like one has truly begun, and Fox takes a breath before setting down his datapad and flicking the holo off. “How long have we known one another?” He asks looking up at his lieutenant.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Long enough.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So, you and I both know that you're here for something else and It's not just to make quips about the new <em>Alor</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I suppose that’s true” Thire’s face gives nothing away. Fox liked that about the shock trooper. He was reserved, yes, but also pragmatic. A problem solver, not ruled by his emotions. Which was all well and good but something about the way he’s staring makes Fox feel like he’s the problem needing solving.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Spit it out.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Go see her.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox raises a brow in his vod’s direction. “Is that an order”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Respectfully sir” the corner of Thire’s mouth quirks almost imperceptibly before it falls away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>The little shit.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In reality, Fox had known this one going to come from one of his men. He’d expected Rule or Hound, the more brash and aggressive boys, to be the ones but Thire is not a complete shock. He’d never seemed particularly close to Mouse but the lieutenant did play things close to the chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She had a nightmare last night while I was on watch. Woke up crying your name.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Inside Fox crumbles. No amount of talking to a psych droid was going to fix that feeling. No amount of time would make him feel ok about what he’d allowed to happen to the woman he loved. Thire continues.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“A clone's lot is not much. They decant us. They train us. They ship us out to fight in their war. We live, maybe. We die, more likely. Nothing is given to us.” Thire runs a hand over his head, fingers scratching at the crown. “Sometimes though, a <em>di’kut</em> like you gets a break. That woman in that bed cried in my arms. Talked to me like I was you for over an hour and I let her. You know why?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox has to unclench his jaw, work past the jealous ache rising up in his chest to respond, “why?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Because it’s the closest I’ll ever have to feeling that kind of emotion. I’m not ashamed to say I pulled your girl into my lap, held her close and said soft things I didn’t even know I knew into her pretty hair until she calmed down. I was happy to pretend to be your <em>atin’shebs</em> but you know what the real kicker is, <em>Vod</em>?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox’s hands are like vice grips on the edge of his seat, knuckles pale white as a shinies armor. The thought of Mouse hurting is one thing, but to have someone else be the one to comfort her? It tears at him. “What?” He asks through gritted teeth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“When she calms down she says, “I know you're not him. Thank you for letting me pretend for a minute”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em> <strong>7 days earlier</strong> </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pretends like he doesn’t know where he’s going. Like talking to the <em>kriffing</em> psych droid really had him so out of sorts he didn’t realize he was getting on a turbo lift and heading up three flights after his appointment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He tries to act like he doesn’t know his feet are carrying him to the room with the familiar red and white sentinel outside the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rule quirks his helmet before snapping to attention.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Commander Fox, sir?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“At ease Sargent.” It's late, well past visiting hours but the few sentient nurses and the droids assisting them make no move to rush him along. Perks of the armor.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rule relaxes and glances through the small transparisteel window on the door behind him before turning back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She just had some medicine.” He explains, “pain was getting pretty bad again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox’s bucket hides his cringe, allowing him to outwardly remain impassive and aloof, his voice even as he asks simple questions about visitors and any possible issues arising.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No problems here sir. I think I heard her Doc say something about discharge tomorrow. She’s doing ok” what isn’t said hangs in the air.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>She’d be doing better if you were with her</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s good. That’s good” Fox agrees, readily avoiding the things left unspoken. “Have you been relieved for dinner?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have a ration bar in my pack sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Do I need to say it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sunny tone of Rule’s voice tells him everything he needs to know. He can imagine the shit eating grin that accompanies it. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A quick glance up and down the hall shows nothing but gleaming white tile. No staff. No visitors. No one but Rule to bear witness to his moment of weakness.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Take the night off Sargent. I’ll cover the watch.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He stares at the emotionless visor for a beat waiting for his kit to argue, for him to make a smart comment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It doesn’t happen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rule rolls his shoulders, stretching slightly as he makes his move past Fox. At the last second, Rule's hand shoots out, resting over Fox’s vambrace. The moment lingers without either speaking until Rule gently pulls the Commander in and knocks his bucket against Fox’s, pressing his forehead to his Commander’s.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox, claps a hand behind the sargents head and they sit there frozen for a moment in time, Rule offering more comfort in that one gesture than he’s felt in days. A Keldabe kiss to ease his fragile psyche.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Alverde</em>.” Rule offers quietly when the pair finally part.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sargent” Fox gives a minuscule nod. “Enjoy your night.” He watches the youngster head down the hall until he turns a corner and is gone from sight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox manages to avoid looking in the room for five minutes exactly. He’s able to fight off the pull to enter it for another twenty. The draw of her is too much in the end and he finds himself slipping into her room before the first thirty minutes are even past.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The lights are low and the monitors and electronics surrounding her hum and buzz steadily. Everything is white and stark. His <em>cyar’ika</em> is nearly the same color as the sheet she lays under.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She looks small, and so achingly fragile Fox is afraid the weight of his look alone will break her. She shivers lightly and he lurches into motion, dragging the itchy comforter over her legs and tucking it around her shoulders. Her body stirs as his gloved hand grazes along her cheek.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He freezes as her eyes flutter open. Her pupils aren’t quite right. It seems to take her a moment to piece together what’s going on but when she does the realization that washes over her is visible.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fox” his name sounds like a long lost friend rolling from her lips. She struggles to sit up. A look of pain flashes across her face as she twists under the blankets.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop that” he demands impotently, his gloves moving to press gently against her chest. “you’re going to hurt yourself.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She blinks owlishly up at him in the way only a person on good pain meds can, like she doesn’t quite understand what’s been said and she’s not sure whether she should comply or question it. It’s somewhere between bemused and scared.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He cups her cheek in his hand, “easy precious girl.” He soothes. Mouse relaxes into his touch as his gloved thumb rubs softly. Her eyes flutter shut and he can feel the soft sound she makes against his palm.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This was already far past what he intended. He just wanted to see her, to prove to himself she was really alive and in one piece despite him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now, he finds himself already slipping into old habits.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>More focused, her eyes open. Her hand slips up and grips his vambrace. Slowly she pulls his hand away from her face. She lets her fingers slip down into and through his. Her voice is thick with sleep when she speaks and Fox has to lean in to hear her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I knew you’d come”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Of course she had. Fox wonders if she knew him better than he knew himself. This was always going to happen no matter how many times he’d lied to himself. He pulls his hand away. Mouse’s hangs empty in the air for a moment before she sets it down over her chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The quiet burr and hum of the monitors around her are the only sound between them until he reaches up to his bucket and lets the seal pop with a soft hiss.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her eyes scan his face as he sets the helm off to the side. There’s a question there he can’t decipher. “What can I do?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A harsh laugh escapes Fox’s lips and Mouse frowns at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I think you’ve done enough, <em>cyar’ika</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fox-“ it’s a scolding tone that holds no weight when she looks like a battered doll in a too big hospital bed. She closes her eyes when he doesn’t give in and offer her more.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The bed dips under his weight as he sits at the edge of it. “I just wanted to make sure you were, ok. Alright?” He holds back from touching her again. It takes an enormous amount of will.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m ok, Fox. Because of you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s a lie. All of it. It can’t be anything else. “You're in a hospital bed,” he growls, pushing up to his feet and stalking toward the window. He can’t look at her. “You spent days floating in bacta. You-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m alive.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s not because of me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He hears the ruffle of sheets as he looks out over Coruscant. The lights of the buildings and speeders in the sky lanes, like stars in the polluted evening light.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fox-“ her hand touches his arm and he spins to steady her. Anger swells up in him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Kriff</em>- Mouse, get back in bed” he orders lowly, “you’re going to get hurt.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She sways gently on her feet in the too big hospital gown but her jaw is set, “will you listen to me?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Will you get back in bed?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before looking at her again. “Get back in bed and I’ll listen. Please.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mouse stands, arms crossed, glaring pointedly. Fox has had enough. Quick and smooth like a tactical insertion he scoops her up. Mouse makes a small noise as his arms slide behind her knees and his other arm cradles behind her shoulders. She breathes heavily as she looks up at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re going back to bed.” He covers the small room in just a few steps. When he goes to set her down she slips her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m not getting back in that bed unless you come with me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re not in the position to make demands.” But that’s a lie because, with him, she was always in the position to make demands. She just never had to.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Please, Fox. I just want one good night. You can leave as soon as I'm asleep.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s hard to say if it’s the tired tone of her voice, the smell of her skin so temptingly close, or just his own beaten down need to be close to her, regardless Fox gives in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The armor stays on.” He says as he settles into the bed, he tries to keep his boots off the bed the best he can. Mouse curls tighter against him. It can’t be comfortable against the plastoid but to look at her he’d never know. One hand rests along his jaw while the other wraps around his back keeping him from easily disentangling himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox can’t help himself as he slips one glove off and cards his fingers through her hair, stopping every so often to work out a tangle. Mouse sighs against him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Precious girl,” he hums lowly as her fingers trace along the stubble at his jaw, “go to sleep.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You're going to leave once I do.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, that was the deal.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re not going to come back.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Again, he’s struck with how well she knows him. “No, <em>cyar’ika</em>. I’m not.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <em>6 days earlier</em> </strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His knuckles are wailing in pain and it feels so <em>kriffing</em> good. His hands, wrapped in protective tape are held tight and safe as he tenderizes the heavy bag in front of him. A low, guttural growl works its way up from his chest with each landed blow.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s the first time he’s felt in control in days. Even if it only lasted for his duration in the sparring rooms he didn’t care. When he closes his eyes he doesn’t see Mouse at the end of his blaster, the way her body recoiled and convulsed at the first shot. He doesn’t hear the scream that rips through her when the second bolt burns through her side. He doesn’t dwell on the voice in his head demanding the kill while Fox did everything to drag his near perfect aim away from center mass.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pictures Sidious’ face on the bag and the pile of sloppy mash his fists were making it into. There’s catharsis in the exertion that a psych droid couldn’t give him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Commander, sir?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox turns to see Hound stripped down to just his black under armor pants. He was a burly boy as far as clones went, thicker and more muscular through the torso, next to Hound, Fox looks almost lithe.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox pants lightly as he dips to grab a bottle of water and straighten back up. “What can I do for you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I- do you need to-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox watches as the man chooses his words carefully, finally gesturing first toward the mat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You wanna go a few, rounds? Looks like you could use it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A roll of tape is flipped through the air in answer. Hound catches it smoothly, giving Fox a happy grin as he begins wrapping his hands.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <em>5 days earlier</em> </strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There’s a neat hole in his wall, fist sized and fresh, less than a week old. Fox pretends like he doesn’t see Chancellor Organa eyeballing it with some amount of apprehension. What he can’t pretend is that a visit from the newly minted Chancellor to his office isn’t a surprise.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Commander, you can drop the title with me.” The Chancellor says for the second time since his arrival.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sir, it’s frowned upon-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“-not by me”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox huffs and closes his eyes to hide the roll of them. “Ok, fine. Can I get you something to drink? Some caf?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bail waves off the offer, “I won’t be long and it looks like you're woefully underserved.” He tips his head back toward the door and the empty desk.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A bristle of irritation tingles down Fox’s neck. “She was in the hospital. She was…” the words trail off. Part of protecting his little Mouse was keeping her involvement in the Sidious event quiet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know, Commander.” Bail says quietly, “we share a friend on the council who’s made me aware of many interesting things.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It feels like he’s being baited. He likes to think Organa wouldn't try to try to weasel information from him but his trust is a very delicate thing at the moment and he’s not willing to give an inch. His loyalty is to his men and the republic, after that only one other person had earned any devotion from him and that was not Bail Organa. At least not yet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If there’s anything I can do for her, anything she needs we can make that happen.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox glances at the picture on his desk. It had come by courier earlier in the day. It’s been neatly matted and framed to be hung, a children’s drawing of a small green twi’lek child and him holding hands. He’d stared at it on his desk in silence for far too long before he felt something ugly bubble up. Now he had a hole in the wall. He hoped the picture would cover it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox continues to look at the picture. He needs a second to pretend like he knows what Mouse needs. He doesn’t listen to the nagging voice inside of him saying it to him. He hates that voice, would smother it if he could.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She needs time to heal.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can make that happen.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em> <strong>Earlier this day</strong> </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Senator Amidala” Fox greets the senator at the door, “this is a surprise. If I keep receiving politicians in my office I’m going to have to have it made more suitable.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The senator gives him a bright smile, “it’s good to see you Fox.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “it’s good to see you too Padmé.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They were friends, of a sort. They’d seen enough together that Fox would gladly file her under battle buddies in his short list of friends. She looks lovely, as always, absolutely glowing. Her hand rests softly over the growing baby bump she was now proudly displaying.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You look wonderful. Congratulations on the coming <em>Ik’aad</em>.” He offers gesturing toward her belly. His eyes linger and he remembers laying Mouse across his bed, placing kisses in a ring around her naval and imaging what it would be like someday when he-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox gives his head a quick shake and refocuses on the senator.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank you.” He watches her eyes travel to the child’s drawing on the wall behind his desk before returning to him. “And how are you doing?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“As well as can be expected. Chancellor Organa keeps a busy schedule and he’s insistent that I go with him. He’s got a lot of ideas and he asks my opinion. It’s different… but it’s nice.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Padmé slips into the chair across from him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s wonderful” but she doesn’t sound like it’s wonderful. She sounds like she was here on a mission that he hasn’t been briefed on. He raises a brow at her. They’ve known each other long enough that she should know to just come out with it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’re leaving for Naboo today. I want to have the baby in the lake country. It’s beautiful and peaceful.” She lets out a tired laugh, “and far away from the prying eyes of the holonet news.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They’ve been very… <em>interested</em> in you as of late” he offers diplomatically.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Another small laugh, “to say the least” Padmé sobers. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with her going?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Confusion must show on his face. Her?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Padmé frowns gently, the look of pity is out of place on her serene features, “you weren’t told, were you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m afraid you’ll need to speak clearly.” Fox tries to bite back the tension but it slips into his voice.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The Chancellor asked if we would take Ranna with us. That she needed a place to finish recovering.” Padmé is watching his face. She’s trying to gauge his reaction.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He tries to give her nothing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She’s an amazing woman. She said if she went then she had to be useful. She’s going to be my assistant while I’m on leave-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox holds up a hand. “She’s excellent at what she does. You’ll never be in better hands.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What about you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m not her keeper. Ranna deserves to be safe and happy.” He shoots her a forced smile. “That’s not with me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <em>Current</em> </strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He had the rancor etched into his arm after Thorn had been killed in action on a mission Fox was supposed to have led. It was an inside joke they’d heard as shinies. Something about a Jedi and a rancor walking into a cantina. He can’t remember the punchline. It wasn’t funny anyways.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Pantoran works the needle over his freshly shaven chest. Back and forth, outlining and filling. Pressing the ink into his skin to permanently mark him with another mark of regret, penance. Everytime he looks in the mirror, stripped down from his armor and his blacks he’ll see the reminder of what never was supposed to be, the thing that he went after when he knew it wasn’t allowed. The love that nearly destroyed the person he cared for beyond all others.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So, this picture is pretty wicked” the Pantoran says conversationally. He glances back and forth from the reference picture Fox gave him, a partial hand print pressed against his armor, the fourth and fifth finger only partially visible and the heel of the hand smeared red. “Was it done in ink?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No. Blood.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Pantoran makes a sound of understanding. The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the quiet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Seconds, minutes, hours it’s all the same as Fox sits still as stone in the chair, the press of the needle intimately familiar.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He thinks of Mouse on a shuttle to Naboo.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This was what he’d needed. Mouse far away, somewhere safe. Somewhere no one could hurt her. Where he couldn’t hurt her. No matter what he’s told he still doesn’t believe there isn’t something in him that can be persuaded, to be flipped on, that won’t harm her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He needed to focus on his job, his men, the Galactic Republic. There was no world in which he and Mouse would work and it was better that she wasn’t there to know that.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Alright, mate.” The Artist sets the gun down and claps his hands once before rubbing them together. “You’re all set. Why don’t you take a looksy in the mirror while I grab the bacta gel and a dressing?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox nods and pushes himself up. His back is stiff from laying still and he takes a moment to stretch and twist before stepping in front of the mirror. His eyes trace the ink. It’s a perfect replica of the picture, deep vibrant red fingers pressing into his armor, only now pressing into his heart. A reminder of what happens when he becomes selfish. When he wants more than the greater design allows for.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s perfect.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Naboo was beautiful. Not in the way that a rare gem or a fancy painting was, where one appreciated their grandeur because that was expected. Where they were looked at clinically and picked apart for sport.</p><p>No, Naboo was beautiful in a way that made Ranna’s heart clench. The overwhelming majesty of the lakes and waterfalls bringing a tear to her eyes the first time she’d laid eyes on them. She’d never seen so much water, so much green. She could scarcely believe she wasn’t experiencing a fever dream in the claustrophobic bacta tank back on Coruscant. Even now, after two months, the view from the Naberrie’s Lake home (more like a palace than any home Ranna has ever imagined) gave her pause.</p><p>It was, in short, heaven.</p><p>The summer months had left the temperature near to perfect and the waters had receded from the great pastoral valleys, leaving them open for exploration, picnics and gathering wildflowers.</p><p>Ranna found herself sleeping most nights with the door to the small balcony off her room open, the not so far-off sound of running water lulling her to sleep. The nightmares had not gone, a twisted version of a reality she’d lived, but she rarely woke up screaming anymore. Instead she came to with a racing heart and thin sheen of sweat decorating her skin. She was haunted by the voice of Palpatine, the flash of light as Fox fires on her, the image of him being lifted and strangled by the force wielding Anakin Skywalker. It still happens like clockwork, the dreams. She just no longer has it in her to scream.</p><p>The senator had noticed the deep circles under her eyes quickly. She was a good woman, Padmé, and while Ranna was unsure whether she’d call her a friend just yet she did know she enjoyed speaking with her. Upto the birth of the babies, they’d taken daily walks, short sojourns along the estate’s lands. It was often the time Padmé had her husband speaking with his healer. Ranna was eternally grateful, as she wasn’t comfortable in the Jedi’s presence. To have him walking with them through the millaflower fields would have soured the experience. She liked to think Padmé realized such things without her saying it. When she did speak of her husband, there was a carefulness to her words, as if she had to think each one out to paint him in his best light. Ranna hasn’t spoken about Fox to anyone, and she wonders if she did would she feel the need to tread carefully? She doesn’t think she would.</p><p>Ranna’s relationship with Padmé changes after the birth of the babies a short two months after their arrival.</p><p>Luke and Leia join the galaxy on a stiflingly hot night during high summer. Heat lightning flashes and grumbles in the distance as the doctor works to bring the children safely into the world. They hadn’t planned for two. Anakin paced the room, like an agitated Nexu, checking in with his wife after each pass. Staff and visitors were at a minimum, so Ranna volunteered to help as she could. It was still a state of the art set-up, one fit for a former queen, senator, and much loved daughter of Naboo. There was little to be done but sit at the Senator’s side and blot her head with a cool cloth while she worked, grunting and pushing through the labor like tackling an obstacle in her way on the senate floor.</p><p>Leia comes first, a squalling indignant thing already full of life and the need to tell everyone about it. The nurse attending offers her to Anakin while Padmé continues to labor. Ranna sees the fear in his eyes as he shakes his head, his eyes already trailing back to his wife. Ranna holds the bundle of blankets and moves out of the way, gesturing for the young Jedi to take her place near his wife.</p><p>“She needs you.” She says softly, fighting back the urge to tremble in his presence.</p><p>“Ani?” Padmé’s voice rings out, for the first time uncertain. That’s all Skywalker needs to go to her side.</p><p>Ranna watches as he takes her hand in his, kisses her fingers, tells her she’s doing great, that she’ll be fine. It feels voyeuristic watching them so she focuses on the little girl in her arms, who stares up with bright blue eyes. Ranna melts.</p><p>Luke is the wildcard, the surprise no one knew to expect. He’d been hiding behind his sister until just days ago when her last scan had shown an extra heartbeat and an extra head. Now he was malpositioned and the doctor has to manually correct it. Padmé makes an awful, wounded noise but pushes nonetheless when she’s finally given the clear to. The boy makes his entrance as a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky and the lights flicker. He’s quiet, and smaller than his minutes-older sister. There’s a tense period where he makes no sound at all, and a collective breath is held until he begins to make a soft plaintive noise before he’s laid against his mother’s chest. Ranna offers the wrapped baby to the nurse and she soon joins her brother. Ranna has to turn away as Anakin leans in and kisses his wife.</p><p>When she sleeps that night there is no nightmare. She dreams of her own swollen belly, a baby kicking away while Fox’s strong arms wrap around her middle and hold her protectively. She can feel his full lips as they press against her temple. She can feel the rumble of his voice.</p><p>
  <em>The beginning of our family, cyar’ika.</em>
</p><p>She wakes with a choked sob and doesn’t sleep the rest of the night.</p><p>—-</p><p>“Run it by me again, Chancellor.”</p><p>It felt like they’d been in the black forever. The jump to the small outer rim was no milk run. Fox glances out the window again as they break atmo and the black of space turns to the bright blue of Naboo’s sky. He was ready to be off the ship. He’d never tell his brothers, would rather die than admit it, but he <em>hated</em> hyperspace travel. It wasn’t just the jump in or the fall out of it either. It was the whole damn thing. It was unnatural. He was meant to have his feet on terra and that was all there was to it.</p><p>The itinerary had them making a quick stop in Theed to take on supplies, then another bit of travel - this time in the blue instead of the black - to reach their destination, the Lake District.</p><p>“Commander, relax. This is a pleasure cruise,” Bail enthuses smoothly, “nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“Then why me and not one of the other boys? Thire would have been fine for this.”</p><p>Bail rolls his eyes. “Thire is a stick in the mud and I much prefer your company and conversation.” Bail explains “I’m going to spend a couple days doting on my new godchildren and discussing a few matters with their lovely Senator mother, some of which you may have strong opinions about that deserve being heard.”</p><p>The last bit grabs Fox’s attention. “I don’t remember that being mentioned.”</p><p>“Oh I didn’t mention that some of your brothers will be meeting us for an impromptu - and off the books - meeting on clone personhood?”</p><p>Fox purses his lips undercover of his bucket. “No you hadn’t sir.”</p><p>Fox had learned quickly that Bail Organa’s style of governance was worlds different from the previous chancellors. The secrets Sidious kept had been dangerous to the republic, his vode and the Jedi in particular while Bail’s all seemed fairly benign and were really only used to surprise and throw Fox from a dour mood.</p><p>“Well it seems I must have forgotten to put it on the official itinerary for our visit.” The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief.</p><p>“It seems you did, sir. I suppose it’s already been planned. It would be a shame to lose out on such an important meeting.”</p><p>Personhood. That was one of those dreams all clones shared but few ever mentioned. It seemed silly that it should even be an issue to begin with. If none survived the war it was a useless conversation to have, wasn’t it? Now, with Sidious no longer pulling his dark strings, the Seppies were beginning to fall apart. They’d already fallen on Felucia and Utapau. General Grievous was dead and Count Dooku had gone to ground, but he couldn’t stay hidden forever. Maybe the idea of life after war wasn’t such a dream. It was tangibly within reach.</p><p>“Who’s joining us for this little shindig?”</p><p>Bail smirks again, “I’ve left the guest list to the Marshall Commander’s discretion.”</p><p>Fox can’t hide the excitement in his voice, “Cody?” It has been ages since he’d seen his <em>ori’vod</em>. Before the second battle of Geonosis and well before Mouse had -</p><p>Mouse.</p><p>Because that was a wound that refused to heal. Kriff - it wouldn’t even scab over! It merely festered and hurt like nothing else Fox had ever felt. Whoever had said out of sight, out of mind needed to keep their head on a swivel because Fox was pretty sure if he ever saw them he’d break their jaw.</p><p>Ranna was still a guest of the Senator’s. He wasn’t proud to say he’d been keeping tabs, but it was one of the only things that kept his anxiety at bay when it came to her. Unlike with Fives, the bottle didn’t seem to do it. The pair of times he’d taken to finding out what was in the bottom of a bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d found nothing but nightmares and guilt.</p><p>Bail gives him a smile as the ship comes in for a landing, the capital of Theed rising up around them, always warm and inviting.</p><p>Fox vows to try not to think of seeing his little Mouse. He breaks it in five minutes.</p><p>——</p><p>To say Padmé Amidala’s wardrobe was expansive was an understatement. Like saying Coruscant was home to a lot of people.</p><p>What had once been an entire guest suite had been turned into a makeshift dressing room and closet for the former queen. Padmé was unapologetic in regards to the sheer amount of clothing she possessed, explaining that it had been expected she never wear the same outfit twice and that, honestly, she just <em>really </em>liked clothes.</p><p>It made her more human in Ranna’s eyes, less like the self-possessed politician and more like the young woman she was underneath all the finery.</p><p>Ranna supports little Leia’s head as she dozes in the sling across her chest while Padmé does the same, bouncing slightly from side to side on her toes to calm a fussy Luke.</p><p>“How about this one?” Padmé questions, pointing to an ornate, layered gown. It reminds Ranna of a confection, fluffy and frosted with layers upon layers of petal pink fabric.</p><p>“A bit much for a dinner party? You think?”</p><p>Ranna had never had much in the way of fine things, had never really needed them, but when Padmé mentioned that the new Chancellor would be coming and she would really like her to come to the dinner she’d had Ranna help plan, well she really couldn’t say no. Now it was important to find something to wear. It seemed since Padmé was not quite ready to leave the concealing gowns of her early pregnancy behind, Ranna bore the burden of her need to dress and accessorize.</p><p>Padmé hums quietly to Luke as he begins to drift off. “You’re probably right. Maybe something a little smaller, more cocktail appropriate?”</p><p>Ranna isn’t entirely sure what that entails but she nods in agreement. She’s discovered that even a month and a half postpartum Padmé was still a force to be reckoned with when she got on something. Motherhood hadn’t softened her drive - if anything, it had brought it to new heights as she made plans and strived to make the galaxy a place where her children could grow and thrive.</p><p>They’d been spending more time together, Ranna becoming a makeshift mother’s helper while Padmé balanced new motherhood and keeping up with her senatorial duties. Anakin, Padmé had confided, was slow to take to fatherhood and while he seemed to love the twins, he became frustrated easily. He’d increased his visits with the healer, but Padmé wondered if part of it was the loss of Jedi Order. General Kenobi had visited a handful of times since they’d arrived, but Padmé worried it wasn’t the same.</p><p>She didn’t mention Sidious but when she spoke of betrayal and upheaval Ranna knew what she spoke of.</p><p>She felt bad thinking it, but Ranna wasn’t unhappy with the children’s father’s absence. His nearness to her still left her uncomfortable and remembering the way his eyes had glowed amber and the hate that had been etched into his features as he’d used the force to-</p><p>“Remind me again why this is important?” she asks as the new mother begins pulling out more dresses. Ranna works Leia from the sling and cradles her near while she ambles over to her nearby bassinet. Leia was the simpler of the two babies while Luke seemed to require a bit more coddling from his mother. She wondered in the personality differences between the two. She places a thin blanket over the sleeping babe before going back to the pile of dresses that had been laid out.</p><p>She holds a deep emerald green dress in front of her and Padme’s brows knit together assessingly. “Next,” she chirps as Ranna grabs a blue dress that shimmers in the light flooding through the room’s large windows. “Maybe pile. Definitely. Tonight is important because I said it’s important,” Padmé says digging back in the closet. “Obi and Cody arrived earlier this morning.” She glances one more time before sitting on a nearby settee. Luke is awake and beginning to fuss and Padmé quickly works open the front of her dress to allow the hungry infant to nurse. “Have you met General Secura?”</p><p>Ranna shakes her head ‘no.’ She’d heard of the twi’lek though and wonders if she might ask her some questions she had. She’d begun sponsoring little Me’kar and wondered what it would take to keep a child of another species in touch with her own heritage if she were to be adopted by a human. Not that she’d been thinking about adoption-</p><p>“You’ll like her. Her Commander Bly will be with her. They’re very… close.”</p><p>Ranna can read between the lines. Close. Close like she and Fox had been maybe? More so? She’d heard battle forged bonds that were unbreakable, maybe it also could form a love connection that could withstand the burdens of both war and the Jedi’s vows.</p><p>She and Fox hadn’t had anything so deep.</p><p>She tries the lie on herself again. It still doesn’t sit true. Maybe another hundred times and she’d start believing it.</p><p>“The Chancellor will be here in a few hours-“ As Padmé continues to speak, Ranna digs through the pile. A red dress, slick and satin smooth catches her eyes. The skirt feels cool under her fingers. Padmé stops mid sentence as Ranna works it from the pile. The neck is scooped shallow from shoulder to shoulder across where her collar bone would be and a thin golden chain connects the apex of the straps and offers to drape and dip low between her shoulder blades. It would do little to hide the scars on her left arm and shoulder, but Ranna wasn’t self conscious of them the way most would think. Though she could never speak of their true nature she didn’t once regret them.</p><p>“- seven hells… I forgot about that one. It’s perfect,” Padmé enthuses, again reminding Ranna of truly how close in age they actually were. “Please, pick that one?” Luke grumbles as his mother’s bouncing interrupts his meal. “Hush sweetling,” she soothes.</p><p>“It is very pretty.” Ranna hums quietly as she holds the dress in front of her and turns in front of the mirror.</p><p>“Some earrings, a pendant maybe… oh a tiara!”</p><p>“Earrings will be fine I think.” Ranna can feel her cheeks heating up. Padmé chuckles softly. “What’s so funny?”</p><p>“I just realized that color matches the Coruscant Guard colors perfectly. I wonder what Commander Fox will think of it?”</p><p>Ranna feels the color drain from her face. Her voice comes out as an ungainly wheeze, “Fox?”</p><p>“Yeah, have you met?” Padmé is giving her a wondering look. “He’s not as bad as people make him out to be.”</p><p>“Oh- uh- we’ve met.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>There’s a twinkle in the senator’s eye, something that clues Ranna into the fact that the woman in front of her just maybe wasn’t as clueless to the state of her relationship with the Guard Commander as she let on.</p><p>“It’ll be nice to catch up or something won’t it?”</p><p>Ranna nods. Or something.</p><p>——</p><p>Fox feels a little cheated. All the times he’d accompanied Senator Amidala to her home world not once had she brought him to the Lake District. The Chancellor looks at home, unswayed by the beauty as he marches through the open halls with confidence. Maybe it was because he was Alderaanian, Fox thinks. He’s never seen the Chancellor’s home but he’d heard its beauty was unrivaled. After taking a glance out the tall transparisteel window looking out directly at one of a half dozen waterfalls he’s sure that it can’t be true.</p><p>“Sir? Should we wait for an escort?” Fox asks as Bail takes a sharp turn down another hall.</p><p>“No worries, Commander. If I know Padmé she’ll have set up shop in her office. The day is still young and she’ll be hard at work.”</p><p>“Sir, she’s just had a baby- two babies. Surely she’ll be taking it easy.”</p><p>Bail barks out a very unchancellor like laugh before he levels his eyes at Fox. “If she’s not in her office, I’ll eat my boots for dinner.”</p><p>“Laces and all?” Fox can’t help the way the corner of his mouth draws up, though he tries to smother it. Bail raps the back of his knuckles twice across the armor of Fox’s chest before pointing one finger at his face, his own smile broad and for the world to see.</p><p>“See, I knew that stick wasn’t as far up your ass as everyone says.”</p><p>“Don’t go telling everyone. I’ve got a image to maintain.”</p><p>Bail’s bark of laughter echoes down the hall. “And this is why you’re here and not Thire.”</p><p>It was new and fascinating to see the Chancellor in this different light, more relaxed than he ever was on Coruscant with its many eyes and wagging tongues. Not for the first time since he’s begun working closely with the Alderaanian, Fox thinks that he truly does enjoy his company.</p><p>Fox adjusts his bucket under his arm, hesitates for a moment as to whether he should replace it or continue to carry it. He’s not sure of the proper protocol in this situation. It was one he’d never been prepped for back on Kamino. What was one to do when addressing a senator on maternity leave in her palatial lake house?</p><p>He decides to leave it off and immediately wishes he’d put it on as they push through large wooden doors into the senators office. Like everything else, it’s beauty is unimagined. Sumptuous wooden bookcases filled with flimsy tomes fill the shelves, natural light spills in from windows showing off a pristine late afternoon lake with the sun just beginning to set behind the waterfalls surrounding it.</p><p>All of that fails to capture his attention because there’s his Mouse swaying gently from side to side smiling down at a cooing baby. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with tiny tendrils escaping, framing her face in fly-aways.</p><p>Karking Naboo could get sucked up by a black hole for all he cares. Ranna is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sun spilling across the room.</p><p>She looks so relaxed, so natural cooing to the infant in her arms - until she looks up and catches him staring.</p><p>He doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t the look of surprise, her eyes thrown wide before cool indifference washes over her.</p><p>This wasn’t a holoromance. She wasn’t going to run into his arms and he wasn’t going to dip her low, kiss her passionately, and promise undying love. Not that he hadn’t thought it in that perfect split second moment of her inattention.</p><p>She holds the baby close, protectively as Bail moves to embrace Senator Amidala, herself holding an infant.</p><p>“Bail!” The young senator’s smile could light the senate halls for a standard rotation. “It’s so good to see you. I was just finishing up.” Fox pulls his eyes away from Mouse long enough to assess the amount of flimsy and datapads stacked across the senators desk. She was nowhere near done.</p><p>“And Commander Fox!”</p><p>He startles slightly as the petite force of nature insinuates herself in front of him.</p><p>“I’m so glad you could make it. Have you seen Cody yet? I know he was pleased when he heard you’d come.”</p><p>Fox shakes his head, his eyes drawing magnetically back to Ranna. He used to be able to read her like one of the flimsy books on the senators shelves but now? Now he doesn’t know what he’s seeing, a whole new language he has no experience translating .</p><p>“Commander” she offers after a moment, her voice tight but bright in a forced kind of way, “it’s good to see you. You look well.”</p><p>Fox swallows hard. “As do you. I hope your stay has been well?”</p><p>The infant in her arms turns and roots against the top of the plain dress she’s wearing and Ranna turns her attention away from him, mumbling some pleasantry dismissively. It feels like a slap in the face.</p><p>“I’ve got nothing for you sweet girl.” She hums to the baby who is beginning to make plaintive, angry noises, “Padmé I believe miss Leia is hungry again.”</p><p>The senator sighs quietly before moving to swap children. She looks at the two men in her presence. “You’ll have to excuse my children,” she jokes, “they don’t know the meaning of office hours yet.”</p><p>Bail gives a hearty laugh. “I’m shocked, with you as their mother.”</p><p>“They must get it from their Dad,” she offers cheekily, “Boundaries are not his strong point.” Fox watches as Ranna heads for the door with the other infant.</p><p>“I think I’ll go deposit this one in bed. Maybe he’ll get some sleep without his sister pestering him.”</p><p>Padmé nods as Ranna leaves and Fox fights the urge to follow after her. Like a child himself, he wants her attention. He runs a hand through his hair roughly as he watches the empty door frame willing her to come back. They could try again, start from scratch. He would put himself on his knees and beg for her forgiveness.</p><p>Something angry flares in his chest.</p><p>Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard didn’t beg. No, Commander Fox was the man everyone looked to for leadership. He would not beg. He’d stand in front of her and dress her down like one of his petulant kits.</p><p>She didn’t get to just walk away from him, give him the cold shoulder. Did she not realize he sacrificed a bit of his soul just to send her here? That the wound it left became a little more infected each day?</p><p>No, she probably didn’t. She’d obviously moved on and he was the one that was left idling in the past.</p><p>——-</p><p>“Bail already knows his way around the estate, obviously.” Padmé laughs. The chancellor had excused himself a short while before and blatantly refused Fox when he’d attempted to follow after.</p><p>“I’m an old man,” he’d said though he was nowhere near the age Fox would seem old , “and I need a nap and a holo with my wife, neither of which I need your supervision for.”</p><p>That left Fox in the senator’s good company as she led him through various halls to the guest wing. Wonder that! A whole wing set aside for people who didn’t even live there. For a clone who’d spent the better part of his life bunking with dozens of brothers, the thought was beyond what he could comprehend.</p><p>Padmé readjusts the baby in her arms not for the first time as they talk.</p><p>“I could take the little biter for a few minutes if you’d like.” He offers not thinking she’ll take him up on the offer. Who would let a clone handle a baby that was damn near galactic royalty?</p><p>Apparently, Padmé Amidala.</p><p>“Oh that would be amazing!” She stops and turns toward him and before Fox really has a clear idea of what’s going on, he’s got an arm full of <em>ik’aad</em>.</p><p>Fox freezes for a moment and stares down at the little face staring back at him. Her eyes have a depth, he thinks, far beyond her few months. When he looks back to her mother, the senator is stretching her arms with a contented smile. Leia squirms in his grip.</p><p>“Well hello princess” he murmurs softly as he cradles her closer. She offers a gummy yawn in return and Fox is surprised he doesn’t melt into a puddle right there.</p><p>Padmé claps quietly. “Oh! You’re a natural!”</p><p>Fox gives her a lopsided smile. “She’s a baby, not a thermal detonator.”</p><p>When he glances up Fox sees just a flash, a far-off look in the senator’s eyes. “You’d be surprised to know not everyone takes to it so easily. Maybe you’re just meant to be a father?”</p><p>“Padmé, you know that-“</p><p>“Screw the regulations,” she says with a steel to her voice he’s only heard a handful of times, “You’re not a droid. You’re not a thing, and if it’s the last thing I do, the Republic will do right by the men we’ve made fight our war.”</p><p>Fox raises a brow. “You know, I was going to say it usually requires a partner to have a baby.”</p><p>Padmé’s face flushes a pretty shade of pink. “Well at least you know where I stand.”</p><p>“With all due respect, I’ve always known where you stood.”</p><p>The pair continue down the hall taking a sharp right before Padmé is pointing to a door.</p><p>“This one is yours,” she states as Fox begrudgingly passes Leia back to her mother. There was something incredibly soothing about holding the little girl and he misses that feeling the moment she’s gone.</p><p>Padmé points at other doors down the hall. “Commander Bly, General Secura, General Kenobi, Marshall Commander Cody…” she rattles off, pointing to a seperate room for each. She does a lousy job of biting back a smile as she points to the last door, conveniently across from his own. “Our little Mouse.”</p><p>Fox can’t help but shake his head. “I feel like I’m being set up.”</p><p>“You are,” Padmé agrees sagely.</p><p>“I regret to inform you, after earlier, I believe that ship has really and truly sailed, hit hyperspace even.”</p><p>Padmé gives him a skeptical look before peeking down at her daughter. “Men are the silliest creatures,” she educates the infant before glancing back up at Fox, “but not all of them are lost causes.”</p><p>Fox chuffs softly.</p><p>“I was once told that the Force controls everything around us,” Padmé says earnestly, “but as I’ve grown I’m not sure that’s true.”</p><p>He’ll bite. “Well what mystical force controls our destinies then?”</p><p>“Hope, Commander. All life,” she looks down at her daughter, her eyes shining when she looks back up, “is built on hope.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“For the love of the Force…” Ranna curses quietly. Padmé was never going to let her live this one down. She turns, admiring herself in the floor length mirror. The kriffing dress was perfect. Like, absolutely perfect. Had she not lost a few kilos since Coruscant she may not have even fit it to begin with but she had and it did and it was all that mattered at the moment.</p><p>It was easier to admire the stunning red dress clinging to each curve, cutting off just below her knees than it was to think about <em>him</em>. Yeah, knowing Fox was going to be there and seeing him were two entirely different things. Seeing him had felt… complicated. </p><p>There had been a split second when she’d first laid eyes on him in that door, bucket slung under his arm, that she would have done anything he asked just to be near him. The loss she’d felt the first few days on Naboo was nothing in comparison to what she felt when he’d entered the Senator’s office. It was a blessing to be holding Leia, to have Luke as an excuse to leave as soon as she could. </p><p>She couldn’t think with him there. Her first instinct had always been to radiate to him, even before she’d really understood that was what she was doing. Fighting that instinct was hard and it hurt, but she didn’t think she had it in her to be that girl anymore. She didn’t know if she could give all of herself again and again to be pushed away when he got scared. </p><p>Padmé had said all the activity would be just a few days and then they’d be back to normal. Mouse just had to survive. She’d gotten good at that.</p><p>On the way out the door she questions retrieving a shawl. She’d be eating with warriors, battle hardened soldiers. She doubts their delicate sensibilities would be thrown into a tizzy by the sight of her scars. Maybe the more delicate socialites and their wives, but she doesn’t much care for their opinions.</p><p>She reaches up to touch the skin of her shoulder as an afterthought. It wasn’t the appearance so much as the feel of it she didn’t like. She hated rubbing the lotion into it, the almost rubbery feeling of the proliferative tissue there, but the doctors had said it was important to keep it softened to prevent it from tightening and contracting over the joint. So, two to three times a day, Ranna let go of her own uneasiness and pressed the special lotion into the skin, rubbed and massaged until the skin was pink with irritation.</p><p>The walk to the grand dining room is short and Ranna’s heels echo softly down the large hallway. She can hear the conversation before the doors are even opened for her, punctuated by deep, masculine laughter. She’s fashionably late and Padmé raises a brow from her spot across the room. Ranna offers an apologetic smile and the senator returns it. Anakin stands a foot behind his wife. His attention is split between watching her and conversing with his former master. </p><p>It’s odd seeing the Jedi, both men, in formal wear. Tuxes just don’t look quite right on them. That’s not to say they don’t cut striking figures - General Kenobi would have his choice of Coruscanti society girls if he marched around the capitol like <em>that</em>. It’s just a little wrong to see the Jedi not in their robes.</p><p>“Sweetling!” The deep rumble drags her attention from the senator who returns to speaking with the men in front of her, neither of whom Mouse recognizes.</p><p>“Marshall Commander,” she greets, turning and accepting a soft kiss on the cheek as Cody draws near.</p><p>“Mous’ika,” he chides, using the name he’d obviously heard somewhere.</p><p>“Yes, Cody?” she asks sweetly, managing to hold in her giggle until he laughs.</p><p>“That’s more like it! How have you been?” </p><p>Ranna falls into conversation with the Commander of the 212th. They’d met a handful of times now since she’d arrived in Naboo. The Commander had accompanied his Jedi on more than a few visits and while General Kenobi was spending time with his former Padawan, Cody had taken to having tea with Mouse and Padmé. He was a steady man who loved to gossip over holodramas and sip herbal tea. In another life maybe, Ranna could picture him as a professor, or maybe the owner of a bookshop. Something quiet, studious.</p><p>A server makes the rounds as they chat and Cody plucks a flute from a tray and hands it to her. She takes it with thanks. The bubbles tickle her tongue as she takes a drink. Something prickles at the periphery of her senses and she glances around, trying to figure it out what it might be. She shakes off the feeling and gives her full attention to the Marshall Commander in front of her.</p><p>“This isn’t either of our particular scenes, I believe. We’ve got to blend in somehow.” He holds up his own tumbler in show, amber liquid and round cubes of ice rolling around in its confines.</p><p>“That’s very true. I was afraid I’d get here and be relegated to a wallflower.”</p><p>“As if Padme would allow that,” he scoffs.</p><p>Mouse laughs again. “Are you always right, Cody?”</p><p>“Ask General Kenobi.”</p><p>Music plays quietly, a string quartet from Coruscant flown in for just the night, as Mouse falls in at Cody’s side. A few troopers  in dress greys stop to chat for a moment here and there and Ranna dutifully smiles and offers polite conversation, laughs at the appropriate times. She recognizes some here and there, a scar or tattoo sticking out in her memory, all Commanders with the occasional Lieutenant thrown in for color. She feels the sensation again and can finally place it. It’s as if someone is watching her. Cody offers her a questioning look as she glances around again. She flashes a smile and shrugs. She was being silly. No one was watching her.</p><p>“Are you still sponsoring the little girl on Coruscant?” Cody asks, making polite conversation.</p><p>“Me’kar? Yes, I actually just received a comm from her guardian the other day. She’s doing well, picking up basic incredibly fast.” Ranna had started sponsoring the child shortly after her arrival, not able to get her bright smile and sweet eyes out of her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for the children’s home to accept sponsorships to supplement the small stipends they received from the Republic. It cost money to keep the children dressed and fed and extras could be more than the budget allotted for. Mouse was more than happy to do it and the updates and occasional holo from the little girl were bright notes in her week.</p><p>“Have you given more thought to adopting her?” Cody asks knowingly, as if it was a forgone conclusion.</p><p>“I’m still thinking.” Ranna shrugs. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the little girl and what it would be like to come home to her everyday, to be a mother to a child that needed one. She’d once harbored a silly dream of a family with one clone commander and little Me’kar playing a starring role. Now she still thought of a family, but maybe just of two and not three. Cody glances over her shoulder, a smile splitting his features. Ranna turns and sees, arguably, the most beautiful Twi’lek woman in the galaxy wrapped in a body contouring dress that looks nearly painted on. </p><p>“Have you met General Secura? Let me introduce you. She may be able to answer some of the questions you have.”</p><p>———</p><p>Aayla Secura was wonderful. Ranna  found herself completely enthralled with the twi’lek woman as she spoke of Ryloth, customs, and traditions. The Jedi didn’t think her idea of adopting Me’kar to be improper and encouraged her. Family was important for her people and she didn’t believe any child should grow up without the opportunity to have one.</p><p>“I would encourage you to fill out whatever application needs to be started immediately. Bring the little one here or raise her on Coruscant, either way it sounds like you’ve been thinking a great deal on it. You’ve asked such important questions. The rest is all just figuring things out as you go.”</p><p>Ranna can’t help the bright smile she flashes. Aayla glances over her shoulder as Ranna takes a swallow of her second glass of bubbly. It’s sweet on her tongue and reminds her of Fall orchard fruits, crisp and delightful. She’s just a little bit more relaxed than she’d been an hour ago as the alcohol works to relax her nerves when she thinks she feels eyes again. She’s quick to laugh it off as nerves - she hadn’t been around so many people in ages.</p><p>“Have you met my Commander Bly yet?”</p><p>Ranna wonders on “my” for a moment, but as soon as the Commander is at the Jedi’s side she wonders no more. He stands close, closer than to be expected and his hand rests along the cutout in the Jedi’s dress for just a moment longer than is proper as he greets her. </p><p>“I’m rounding up stragglers, sir,” he says with a half smile, turning and offering Ranna a nod. She holds out a hand and Aayla introduces her. Bly has a moment when his brows twitch up in unison before he takes her hand and shakes it gently. “If you ladies would care to, I believe we’re supposed to take our seats for dinner.”</p><p>Bly offers his arm to his general and she slips hers through it, allowing him to guide her. Ranna follows a half a step behind as they move to the grand hall. Large round tables are set up under sparkling chandeliers. Ranna tries to break off to a smaller one, out of the way and to the side of the room, but it seems Cody has taken up the rear behind the trio. He takes her arm gently as she tries to veer off.</p><p>“I believe you were assigned a seat of importance, Sweetling.”</p><p>Ranna shakes her head. She really was only here because Padmé wouldn’t hear of her not being there. She tries to explain to Cody as Bly glances over his shoulder. A look passes between the two troopers.</p><p>“I’m sure there’s at least one seat left at the head table.” </p><p>Ranna watches as Aayla gives her Commander a questioning look. She swears she sees him wink.</p><p>She’s not watching where he guides her, still gently trying to plead her case. She looks to her left and sees Padmé smiling brightly and knows she won’t back her up in her decision to hide in the shadows. Cody pulls the chair out for her as she offers him a grumpy look. He chuckles and captures her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Ranna feels her cheeks flame, too flustered to come up with anything in response. She doesn’t pay attention to the set of greys next to her as Cody nods and she slides into her seat. Not until he walks to his own seat beside General Kenobi does Ranna turn to introduce herself.</p><p>And comes face to face with the Commander of the Coruscant Guard.</p><p>Fox is leaned back in his seat, brow raised in her direction. He radiates slow simmering irritation.</p><p>“I- I’m sorry” she doesn’t know why she’s apologizing. She had nothing to do with this. Her eyes dart around frantically trying to find any other option, an escape, but all the other seats are full and the last of the guests are taking their places at the other tables. If she got up now she’d only draw more attention to herself.</p><p>Fox says nothing as he turns back to his drink and Bly on his other side. Ranna stares down at her plate, her stomach already twisting into knots. She throws back her drink, downing the rest in one swallow. A passing waiter offers her another and she readily accepts. Maybe if she’s just a little bit drunk this wouldn’t be so bad. </p><p>Padmé clears her throat and all eyes fall to where she stands at the head of their table. She’s resplendent, of course, in a loose cream gown that drapes her in the most eye pleasing of ways. Even if she didn’t have an air about her that demanded attention, her wardrobe choice alone would have done the job.</p><p>“I’d like to begin by thanking everyone for their company on this lovely evening. As I’m sure you’ve heard,” she says as if she’s letting the room in on a grand secret, “we’ve recently welcomed our first children into the world.” The small gathered crowd laughs as if on cue. Ranna glances to the other tables. She didn’t know faces, but she’d dutifully typed all the names into the guest list Padmé had dictated. They were some of the most influential individuals in the outer rim. Padmé has thought to treat this evening as a soft unveiling of the plan she’d eventually propose to the senate. It was a test crowd of her peers. She’d use their reaction to modify and gauge where to go from here.</p><p>“Now,I find being a mother is much like being a senator. There is always something that needs doing and a mother’s work, much like a senators, is never done.” She offers a smile as she glances from one side of the room to the other. </p><p>“The men and women I have invited here today,” she gestures to the clones and Jedi around her “are very familiar, also, with work that never seems to be done. These are the Marshall Commander and Commanders who keep the Grand Army of the Republic afloat. They and their men risk their lives for a Republic which has given them nothing in return, and for that,” Padmé gives a gentle smile around the table, “I want to be the first to openly admit that we have done them a grave disservice.” </p><p>Ranna glances to see the wait staff lining up along the walls with the first course. She really does try to pay attention to what the senator has to say, but Fox is so close. She can imagine she wouldn’t have to move far to be back against his chest, feel his hot breath against her skin. Maybe he’d wrap his arm around her, hold her tight, whisper sweet things in her ear-</p><p>Maker, she was pathetic. Her stomach turns in agreement.</p><p>“Throughout this evening I hope each and every one of you enjoy yourselves, and I also hope that you take a moment to give these brave men some of the gratitude that we, as a Republic, have denied them for far too long. Something I hope we will begin to change in the not so distant future.”</p><p>Polite clapping erupts as staff circles the tables and places the first course in one impressively synchronized movement. As Padmé sits, her husband leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. Ranna looks away.</p><p>The food looks good. Or at least it should. Ranna had helped pick out the menu herself. Crudité, a small salad of exotic fruit, a light dressing. It should be perfect. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it if the sound of silver clinking against china meant anything. She takes a bite and chews carefully - it has all the depth and flavor of sawdust.</p><p>“I didn’t realize you had a type.” </p><p>Ranna glances at Fox who is firmly staring at his own plate, chewing as if nothing is amiss. He’d always looked good in his greys but he looks utterly delicious now. His hair is longer and his face is shaved clean of its usual five-o’clock shadow. </p><p>“Excuse me?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.</p><p>“I didn’t take you for a trooper chaser.”</p><p>The food very nearly gets stuck in her throat as she attempts to swallow. She takes a pull of wine from her glass, coughing lightly.</p><p>“Everything ok, Mous’ika?” Cody asks from across the table, concern evident.</p><p>Retrieving her napkin from her lap, Ranna covers her next cough. “I’m fine, Cody.” She tries to give him a reassuring look from behind the fabric. “Must have forgotten to chew,” she jokes awkwardly. At her side Fox makes a low sound. Cody glances between the pair of them for a moment before turning back to General Kenobi at his side.</p><p>“<em>Cody,</em>” Fox says, and Mouse catches the quick flash of brown eyes. “I seem to remember it took nearly a year for you to say my name. You’re moving faster.”</p><p>“Why are you saying this?” she questions. Why would he think such a thing? She hadn’t done anything that deserved such an accusation. He shrugs before turning to Bly and asking him a question about field munitions.</p><p>It leaves Ranna’s head spinning. No one else seems to notice as they all speak quietly to one another.</p><p>“Commander Bly? General Secura?” Bail looks to the other side of the table and the pair. “What are your feelings on Senator Amidala’s personhood bill I sent you?”</p><p>“Far be it from me to dislike a law that makes me human,” Bly cracks. A round of laughter rises among the other troopers present. Aayla rolls her eyes at her Commander in an unmistakably fond way.</p><p>“What I believe the Commander is trying to say Chancellor, is that it is a more than welcome change to the status quo.”</p><p>“I was trying to say that?”</p><p>“Yeah, the vocabulary seems a bit past him,” Fox cracks dryly. </p><p>Aayla looks from one to the other. “Force I wish General Koon and Commander Wolffe could have been here. Maybe then you’d remember how to behave.”</p><p>“The <em>ori’vod</em> is the one who taught us,” Bly offers with faux indignation.</p><p>Obi-wan manages to smother a chuckle, though a smile still tugs at his lips. “Master Plo Koon sends his deepest apologies. The Wolffe pack is still firmly entrenched on their mission and he didn’t feel it appropriate to leave them.”</p><p>There’s a general consensus of agreement among the group. Ranna catches General Kenobi’s occasional glances around the table, the majority of them falling between Commander Bly and his General.</p><p>“Senator Amidala,” he begins, his voice pensive, “How do you propose to introduce your personhood bill?”</p><p>Padmé gives a warm smile. She’d been waiting for this; Ranna can tell by the way her eyes sharpen and the slight quickening of her voice. “I think we need to show the public that it’s not only the GAR that stands behind the Clones, but also the Jedi Order as well.”</p><p>Ranna makes a small sound of dissent, feeling Fox adjust next to her.</p><p>“Mous’ika?” Cody questions, “Do you not agree with the senator?” Ranna looks embarrassed as she glances Padmé’s way, but the senator looks more curious than anything. She gathers her thoughts while she finishes her glass of wine. A passing server goes to refill the glass but, at her side, Fox waves him off. She wants to glare at him, but all eyes are on her, waiting.</p><p>“I’m no politician, so I’m not sure my opinion should amount to anything,” she begins, “but general public opinion about the Jedi Order is not…” She looks apologetically at the few Jedi at the table “Well, it’s not good right now.”</p><p>There’s some concerned looks flying her way. Bless. It was easy to miss what was happening at home when one was in a war zone the majority of the time. </p><p>She reaches for where her wine should be and grabs a glass of water that hadn’t been there a moment ago. She takes a sip before speaking again.</p><p>“It would be a poor decision to align solely with the Order on this one, I feel. Just a look at the holonews and you’ll see articles and op-eds questioning the Jedi’s involvement in the war.”</p><p>Fox clears his throat.</p><p>“She’s right” How sweet it was to hear those words. “We’re dealing with domestic terrorism on an unprecedented level. Nothing that we can’t handle but it’s something to take into consideration. The public feels like the Order has overstepped its bounds. It lacks policing of its own.” Fox holds up his hand when Obi-wan goes to speak. “While that may not be the case, in the court of public opinion the Order is guilty more than it is not.”</p><p>Ranna can feel him looking at her, handing the reins back over. “The average Coruscanti already is apprehensive of such a large military force within their presence. It’s going to take some doing to convince them to see the troopers as anything but soldiers awaiting orders” she finishes diplomatically.</p><p>There are speculative looks and nods around the table. “Much to think about,” Bail agrees, taking a slow sip of wine. His eyes linger between her and Fox for far longer than she likes. “Thank you.”</p><p>Ranna nods, her cheeks glowing hot from the attention. Her hand brushes against Fox’s as she sets it back down on the table. Her fool’s heart skips a beat when he doesn’t pull away immediately. She fights the urge to lace her little finger with his. Luckily, the next course comes and they both have to adjust to the changing of plates.</p><p>Her stomach is still turning in loops and food is still not something that sounds appealing in the slightest as the main course comes out. She doesn’t even remember what it’s supposed to be. It looks like it was probably delicious, roasted meat and delicate fresh vegetables sautéed to perfection. She takes a few testing bites but her plate remains mostly untouched.</p><p>“Quit pushing your food around and eat”. Of course she hasn’t forgotten Fox is sitting next to her. It must have been too much to hope he had forgotten about her. </p><p>Again, when she glances his direction he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. She doesn’t acknowledge he’s said anything and listens in quietly as the others at the table chat. </p><p>She takes another bite and chews slowly before swallowing.</p><p>“Come on, another,” he says. This time something is softer about his voice. When Ranna looks she sees him glancing at her. </p><p>Her chest tightens uncomfortably. Why did she give him the power to do this?</p><p>“Mouse.” </p><p>She thinks for a moment that she just might be imagining things. Under the table Fox’s booted foot knocks softly against hers letting her know she wasn’t. This wasn’t fair. </p><p>“Eat.” It’s a soft plea. He didn’t get to be soft with her anymore. He didn’t get to give orders. He’d lost those privileges.</p><p>“I’m not hungry.” </p><p>Fox’s head turns slowly at her words. “You could have fooled me. You look like a strong wind could blow you away.”</p><p>“Let it go, Commander. You’re being ridiculous,” she manages to whisper under her breath. She doesn’t realize the table has gone quiet, that half a dozen or more pairs of eyes are watching them. Fox hasn’t either.</p><p>“There are faster ways to kill yourself than starvation. I’m sure you remember at least one other way.” The sudden acid in his voice hides the sound of frustration and strikes a direct hit.</p><p>Ranna has never considered herself a dramatic person, far from it really. So the rapidly rising urge to turn and punch him in the eye comes as a surprise. The anger behind it is soon replaced by mortification when she realizes that everyone has gone quiet.</p><p>Cody’s jaw is set into a tight line, the antithesis of Bly’s slackened one. Both Aayla and Bail are staring down at their plates. Ranna doesn’t look at the others.</p><p>Fox is frozen at her side, unmoving and unspeaking. Horror is dawning in his eyes as she pulls the napkin off her lap and places it in her still full plate.</p><p>His hand fumbles reaching for hers under the table but she skitters out of his reach.</p><p>“If you’ll excuse me?” She addresses the gathered group, “I’ll be back shortly.” Hot angry tears are already starting to swell in her eyes as she pushes away from the table and makes her way from the great room. She manages to keep it together until she’s in the guest wing. She doesn’t slide to the floor in a heap til she’s in her room.</p><p>She doesn’t return to dinner.</p><p>————</p><p>“You know I remember it all.”</p><p>The words catch Fox by surprise. He picks up the tumblr resting along the stone terrace wall and takes a drink as he looks at the Jedi - former Jedi- he didn’t even know what Anakin Skywalker was anymore.</p><p>“Congratulations?” Bitterness is already brewing in his gut. First Mouse and now this? Could it get any worse? Could a man not drink away his self-loathing in peace?</p><p>“The first time I met the Chancellor I was a child, but I remember it like it was just this morning. He smiled at me. It was like having someone see me for the first time. Like my Mother. Like Qui-Gon-“</p><p>Fox isn’t in the mood for this. </p><p>“-as I got older his attention focused on me. He honed me. Groomed me for something-“</p><p>“That’s great, sir, really.” He’d failed to hold back his acidic comments when Mouse had been near. Now that it was Skywalker he doesn’t even care to try.</p><p>“Shift it Fox and listen to what the kriff I’ve got to say.”</p><p>Fox brings the glass to his lips and finishes it in one long, slow pull before taking it and throwing it out into the placid lake below. It would have felt better had it smashed. The urge to break something has been simmering on the back burner all night. Skywalker was bringing it to a rapid boil. </p><p>“And what are you trying to say <em>Jetii</em>? Your life story means to me about as much as sith spit.”</p><p>Something dangerous flares in the other man’s eyes. “We’re the same, you and I.”</p><p>Fox barks a laugh, a bitter stagnant sound as he feigns turning away for just a moment only to spin right back. “You and I are nothing alike. Are you one of millions? Does your order see you as interchangeable battle fodder? Tell me your serial number, sir.”</p><p>“Your loyalty is unquestionable. You would do anything for the people you care about.” Anakin seems undeterred by Fox’s growing ire. “We both love women who are far stronger than we gave them credit for-“</p><p>“Shut up.” Fox’s voice is low, a warning growl from a wounded animal. He’d already hurt someone he’d claimed to love, said something ugly and cruel. It wouldn’t take much effort to get him to throw a swing against the man in front of him.</p><p>“-we think we know best. Sometimes we do. Then we let our own ego get in the way and we hurt the ones we love with our good intentions.”</p><p>“What about shut up don’t you understand?” Fox takes a step forward, chest out. He wants this to escalate. </p><p>“What I don’t understand is how you can take a girl like her and purposefully hurt her. I watched her put a blaster to her-“</p><p>“ENOUGH!” Any cool Fox had left vanishes as he closes the space between them. His finger jabs into the other man’s chest, punctuating his point. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to talk about that night.” </p><p>How dare he. In the end, who was he but Sidious’s favorite lap dog? Rage boils over as Anakin steps into the jabbing finger, making Fox take an unwanted step back.</p><p>“Yeah? You want to go there? Pretty sure I remember being there just as much as you were. I was also there when your blaster killed Fives.”</p><p>Fox can’t hide the way he flinches at the name. </p><p>Anakin takes a slow even breath before he speaks again. “Fox, I’m not going to say I didn’t want to turn the damn thing on you and put two through your composite -Jedi way be damned- but I can look back and remember what your face looked like. When you stepped in the corner where you didn’t think anyone could see? You didn’t want to shoot Fives. You didn’t want to kill your brother.”</p><p>Fox closes his eyes, tipping his head up toward the night sky.</p><p>“She knew that too-“</p><p>“You think I don’t realize what she was doing? You think I don’t realize she was ready to sacrifice herself so I didn’t have to kill someone else I - “ He opens his eyes focusing back on the Jedi. </p><p>“But you didn’t <em>feel</em> her in the Force like I did. I was as much of a mess as any of us but you know what I felt coming from her?”</p><p>Fox shakes his head. He doesn’t want to know.</p><p>“Resolve. Love and resolve. She would have done anything to keep you safe. She was the only steady one of us all.”</p><p>“Why are you doing this to me?” He’d seen it in Mouse’s eyes, that decision she’d made and would have followed through with. For him. The nightmares where she had to follow through still found him, the ones with her wide eyes staring up blank and glassy while smoke rose in tendrils from her head.</p><p>“Because we’re the same. Our love was used as fuel for manipulation. It was a tool to gain our compliance. I saw a future where Padmé died. Over and over and Palp- Sidious made me think I could stop it. If I did what he said I could stop it all. Then he was dead and I still had the dream. But you know what? She would have died at my hands because of me, because of my blind, fumbling attempt to prevent it in the first place and my children -” Emotion swells in his voice.</p><p>“When I watched you tonight, when I heard what you said, I saw those very blind steps I had been taking all over again. Stop it, Fox. She doesn’t deserve it.” Anakin stops and takes a deep breath, </p><p>“You don’t deserve it. Let the pain stop.”</p><p>Fox drags himself away from the Jedi, turning his back to stare out at the expanse of water below. “There’s no fixing what I’ve done”</p><p>“I think you’re wrong.”</p><p>“And I think you’re a fool.”</p><p>———-</p><p>Fox feels spent. Physically and emotionally exhausted, riding the fallout of an adrenaline surge down to rock bottom after his confrontation with Skywalker.</p><p>He’s ready for bed. He needs a solid six hours of sleep. Maybe a coma? </p><p>He wasn’t pleased with the continued attempts by others to force something with Ranna that was obviously not meant to be. He wasn’t pleased with his own behavior in response to it. He wasn’t a <em>Hutuun</em>, but he had certainly acted like one. Honestly, he’d rather take the butt of a blaster to his head as opposed to thinking about it anymore. </p><p>He tried to think of something else. Personhood. Not in a million lifetimes did Fox think someone as powerful as the Chancellor of the Republic or one of its most brilliant senators would take up the torch for him and his brothers. It was bound to be a controversial bill but after listening to Bail and Padmé speak, it didn’t seem so overwhelming. It was a real possibility that the end of the war wasn’t going to mean the proverbial scrap heap. The end of the war could mean citizenship, recognition, lives outside of battle and the GAR. </p><p>The thought left him a little lightheaded - or maybe that was the Alderaanian wine that had been flowing. </p><p>He tries to rein in his excitement at the thought. If Fox had learned one thing in his time in Coruscant and among politics it was that politicians were exceptionally good at dragging their <em>shebs</em> when it came to anything good. It would require finesse and more than a little debate for the good Senator to see her plans to fruition. If anyone could do it, it was Padmé. The time frame in which she could do it was up for debate. Fox raises a brow as he looks down the hall. If the sound coming from General Secura’s room meant anything, there was some very brisk debating going on between the General and her Commander. </p><p>Fox tries not to look at Mouse’s door as he goes to his own. He tries not to think about what personhood would mean for his vode that had broken regs and found something to fight for outside of the GAR.</p><p>Fox is  barely in his door, already bending to remove his boots when he hears it, a soft plaintive voice in the hall. It’s instantly familiar. He’s already cursing himself. He’d done enough to her tonight. Obviously, he’d proven that he couldn’t be in the same room without hurting her. He hears her voice again and he’s pulling the door open without a second thought. </p><p>Ranna is leaning half in the hallway. “Hello?”</p><p>The disaster that had been dinner flashes in his mind’s eye as do Skywalker’s words from a short time ago.</p><p>
  <em>Let the pain stop.</em>
</p><p>Clearing his throat, he steps into the hall.</p><p>“Oh Maker…” it’s not the exact thing he was hoping to hear as she laid eyes on him, but he’s sure it’s no less than he deserves. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”</p><p>Fox gives her an appraising look. Her cheeks were hot and flushed even before she’d seen him and the gown she’d worn to dinner is still firmly in place. Her gentle eyes are rimmed in red. She looks just as stunning as she had a few hours ago. </p><p>The foundation his resolve has been built upon continues to crumble.</p><p>He chides himself. That foundation had never been strong, not when he’d asked Bail to transfer her, not when he’d seen her in her hospital room, certainly not when she’d given him the cold shoulder earlier when they’d arrived. It seemed everything about Mouse worked to destroy the barrier he’s tried to erect between them.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” He asks gruffly. He’s tired from travel and of the mental gymnastics he’d been putting himself through. Mostly though he was tired of feeling like he was fighting with both her and himself.</p><p>Ranna’s eyes dart each way down the hallway as if looking for someone else to save the day. She isn’t that lucky. A particularly loud moan coming from Secura’s room emphasizes that point.</p><p>“My dress-“ a new wave of red blooms in her cheeks, “the zipper is stuck. I’ve been trying for nearly an hour and…” She glances down at the floor and her bare feet. He hates that she won’t look at him but he’s done nothing to earn that honor now has he?</p><p>He huffs taking a breath and a leap. “If you don’t hate the idea of my help, I’m willing to offer it.”</p><p>Ranna’s eyes slowly rise back to his. “I-“ she’s making a decision as well. He can see it written across her face. Maker, he thinks, please give me this one chance.</p><p>“Yes. Please.” She stutters out her answer, pulling away from the door frame and moving into the suite. She glances over her shoulder as she moves as if she’s afraid he wouldn’t actually follow.</p><p>Ranna stops near a small dressing table with brushes and makeup laid out on its top. A full size mirror is immediately to its side. She watches him in the reflection. It’s the first time since the hospital on Coruscant that Fox has been alone with her. That feels like so long ago, another life and time. They’re two different people now.</p><p>He steps carefully into her space as if one off movement would spook her and this would all end. This close he can smell the soft floral perfume she’s dabbed on. He can feel the heat radiating from her. Equal parts comfort and temptation rolled in one. </p><p>“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says suddenly. Skywalker’s words haunt him. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.” Mouse’s head cocks to the side as she watches him.</p><p>“Why did you then? I’m certainly not Cody’s type and-“</p><p>“And what?”</p><p>She steals herself. Fox can see the deep breath she takes before she speaks again, “even if I was, my interest will always lie elsewhere.”</p><p>The meaning of her words strike home. “Me? After everything?”</p><p>“It was always you.” She admits softly.</p><p>She still- she still cared for him? After everything?  After he’d nearly killed her. After he left her maimed. After he pushed her away over and over. </p><p>More of the wall crumbles. All he’d have to do now is take one big step and he could be over it.</p><p>“So, this zipper you were talking about?” He deflects, needs another minute to think because there’s too much to sort through and he can’t make more mistakes. Not with her. Not with them.</p><p>She nods softly toward her left side, pulling her arm forward to show the jammed apparatus. Fox closes his eyes. Her scars stand proudly from under the thin straps of her dress. When he opens them he catches Mouse watching him in the reflection, her look is sad. </p><p>“I can find someone else-“ </p><p>His hand immediately drops to her hip as she tries to walk away, pulling her back and erasing the laughable space in between them. The shock shows on both of their faces.</p><p>“Easy,” he manages, and after a moment she settles against him. His thumb rubs small circles over her waist and he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or himself. “I’m just coming up with a plan of action.” That draws a small smile from her but it’s all the encouragement he needs. “You need help taking your hair down?” He turns his head, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft strands still secured in their up-do.</p><p> It’s an absolute sithshit question, she had two working arms she could remove all the pins and clips herself, they both know this. Fox just wants- he wants more time. He wants to be ready to look at the damage he’s done and not feel repulsed by it. To maybe, just maybe, not hate himself when he looks at it.</p><p>“I- yeah, that would be helpful.” She says quietly after a moment. She sits on the stool in front of the mirror, her eyes following his actions with apprehension and curiosity. Fox takes a steadying breath and begins. </p><p>He’s never done this before, that is to say done anything more than held hairpins passed to him by senators like Padme and Chuchi on a transport after an event when they complained of the intricate styles giving them headaches or had simply needed to feel free of the bindings of senate formality. He’s seen enough though, and begins to work slowly from the base of her skull working up to the crown of her head. Mouse holds out her hand and he drops the thin pins in as he goes. As her hair begins to spill down, he watches her transform before his eyes back into the Mouse he’d always known. Loose waves frame her face, still painted to perfection. Her red lips part and a soft breath escapes her as he massages his fingers along her scalp. Tension melts from her shoulders and she begins to lean back into him as his fingers rake through her hair, untangling strands until they slip smoothly through her fingers.</p><p>“You’re going to make me fall asleep if you keep that up,” she says finally. The ghost of a smile crosses his face.</p><p>“Come on then. Stand up. Let’s get this thing undone before you have to sleep in it.” The stool is pushed to the side as she stands, and Fox moves a half a step back so he can see what he’s doing.</p><p>“The chain,” she says softly, catching his attention. “Unclasp it first, before the zipper. I can’t reach that at all.”</p><p>The thin gold chain hangs low on her bare back, spanning the distance between the straps of her dress. It glitters temptingly in the light, just like it had when he’d seen it earlier at dinner, when his mouth had gone dry at the mere sight of her.</p><p>Fox meets her eyes in the mirror as his hand moves softly from her right hip, up and over her back. His fingers drag feather-light over the bare skin they find. Ranna’s eyes flutter shut and he can see her inhale deeply. Her skin was still as soft as he remembered. He gently scoops her hair to one side, over her right shoulder. Her eyes are still closed.</p><p>“Breathe, precious girl,” he orders softly, fighting a wince at the pet name that slips out. If Mouse cares, she doesn’t let on. She exhales slowly, opening her eyes at the end. Her pupils take a moment to adjust back to the light. “Am I ok?” he asks quietly.</p><p>“Are you?” There’s no heat or snark in her words. She’s staring at him, genuinely curious.</p><p>“I think so.” His fingers find the tiny gold catch holding the chain in place and it opens with ease.</p><p>“Can you- do you think you can do the zipper. If it’s too much to look at I-“</p><p>Fox stops her with a low sound. She hadn’t looked unsure or self conscious in the gown she wore all night. He wasn’t going to be the one to make her question it now. He’d already done enough. </p><p>“I’m good.” </p><p>He gently presses her left arm forward to gain access. He takes a steading breath as he looks down. The scarring spills across her shoulder, two shades lighter than her normal skin tone. He’s seen plenty of burns in his career and this wasn’t the worst but it feels like it is because he was the cause of it. A few centimeters more and he would have missed her entirely. A few centimeters the other way and-</p><p>His fingers move to the gown, easily plucking open the hook and loop closure at the top of the zipper. Ranna sucks in a sharp breath as the tips of his finger skim along the bare skin there.</p><p>“Is this ok?” he asks. She nods mutely. “I need words, Mouse,” he urges as gently as he can muster.</p><p>“It’s good.” Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks, “Go- go ahead.”</p><p>Fox can hear his heart beating in his skull. He can hear the rush of air through his lungs. Everything feels loud as his fingers slowly work at the jammed zipper. Ranna’s breathing is shallow as his fingers press into her, as they pull and twist until whatever has been keeping the closure jammed comes loose and it slides down. His fingers trail behind the zipper as it falls open.</p><p>He looks up to find her eyes on him again in the mirror’s reflection. Her pupils are blown wide and her lips are parted. Fox feels the beginning wave of blood rush to his groin, the surge only becoming stronger as Mouse slowly - carefully - reaches up and slides the right strap of her gown down. She doesn’t look away from his reflection as her hand trails across her collarbone to the left strap. She pauses as if waiting for him to tell her to stop.</p><p>Fox puts the tips of his fingers over hers and together they lower the strap. He can see the rest of the scar now, can really get a feel for the size and the shape of it. It’s glossy compared to the surrounding area, as if her skin had been pulled too tight and frozen that way. She slides her fingers from the strap - laying flat against her lower arm - up, bringing his fingers along with it.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” The question slips out as her fingers glide over the surface.</p><p>“Not usually. It pulls sometimes,” she says softly, “They both do. I use lotion, try to get it massaged a couple times a day.” Fox’s eyes lock on hers. “The other option was worse.”</p><p>That’s right. She could be dead. He’s tried not to think of that the last few months, so trapped in his own guilt about hurting her that each time the psych droid brought it up he immediately countered with how she wasn’t and she had to live with what he’d done to her.</p><p>“Can I…?” He glances down and then back up. Ranna gives him a tense smile and a nod.</p><p>It feels different from how skin is supposed to feel. It feels thicker, less textured missing the fine hair that covered the rest of her arm. He traces the outline of it. It had only been glancing, the distal part of her shoulder taking the brunt of the burn from the bolt. His fingers map out the boundaries twice before he comes to a stand still.</p><p>He doesn’t want to stop touching her. </p><p>“Where’s your lotion?”</p><p>She doesn’t question him. He can see it in her eyes, in the split second of hesitation. She doesn’t want this to stop either. </p><p>One arm moves across her chest to hold her gown in place while the other reaches to the dressing table and wraps around a bottle. Fox takes it when offered and squeezes a small amount into his hand. </p><p>He’s taking that step over his wall, he realizes.  It doesn’t feel like much of an obstacle anymore anyway as it lays in crumbles at his feet.</p><p>Her skin is warm under his touch, no real difference between the good tissue and the scarred as far as temperature is concerned. He works the lotion into her skin pressing his thumb in firm circles from the edges to the center. Ranna lets out a tiny sigh and it’s becoming more difficult to ignore the desire roiling in his belly. </p><p>“Fox…”  he hums in response to the soft moan of his name, “it feels so good.”</p><p>“I missed you, <em>Cyar’ika</em>.” He offers tentatively as he presses in close, aligning her back against his chest. His free arm wraps around her waist holding her lightly against him. His hand falls away from her skin and his mouth descends to pepper soft kisses. She was warm. She was alive. she could be dead but she wasn’t and in the end it was because of his actions that he could still hold her, still hear the soft hitch in her breath as he sucks gently at the juncture where her shoulder and neck meet. </p><p>Ranna’s head tips, offering him more room. Her arm falls away from her dress and reaches back behind her, cradling the back of Fox’s while he sucks a mark into her skin. A sea of red flutters to the floor as the dress falls. Fox growls as he looks up and sees the pair of them, him still in his greys and her naked except for a small lacy pair of red panties. His red. From there his eyes travel up, finding the other shot he fired. </p><p>The scarring to her right flank is worse than the shoulder; he can see the puckered skin and the patterned appearance of healed grafting but he doesn’t feel the wave of guilt he’s felt earlier. She was alive and hot in his arms.</p><p>“Tell me to stop.” He demands quietly against her skin, “make me stop.”</p><p>Ranna’s hips press back against the hard line of his erection straining in his greys. Another low growl spills from his lips as he spins her around. Her lips are on his in an instant, messy and desperate as she presses up and into him. Her teeth pull at his lower lip. “Fox…”</p><p>His hands cradle her face as he slots his mouth over hers, breathing in the air she gives him like a gift from Fett himself. He can feel the press of her breasts against his chest, the way her hands wrapped around him and gripped at his back. </p><p>It was a dream. It had got to be. If it was, it was  the first good one he’d had in months. Ranna whines quietly as his hands slide down and grips her hips as if they were the only thing tethering him to this reality. It’s too much and he should stop but he can’t because what he should do and what he wants to do are too wildly incompatible.  His fingers graze over the pebbled skin of her right flank. Mouse inhales sharply.</p><p>“Stop.” The word leaves her mouth with sudden desperation, like it had been pulled from her body unwillingly.  It’s like a bucket of cold water thrown over Fox as he jerks away.</p><p>Ranna turns from him, shaking her head as she snatched up a robe and quickly wraps it around herself. They’re both panting quietly.</p><p>He’d done something wrong, misread her signals. He was scum. He was an idiot. He should-</p><p>“I can’t do this again” She’s still breathless when she speaks, ruby lipstick smeared over swollen lips. “Fox look at me.” She demands quietly when he tries to turn away. “You can’t do this to me again.”</p><p>“Do what?” He can hear the desperation in his voice, he sounds pathetic.</p><p>She looks at him for a moment before she moves closer to him. He wants to turn away. He doesn’t want to hear how he’s ruined everything, how everything has become clear but it was now too late. </p><p>Her hand comes up softly to his cheek as she looks at him through dark lashes. Her voice is barely above a whisper.</p><p>“You can’t make me want you again, not if you’re going to push me away when things get hard.” She has her free arm crossed over her chest. Her tone isn’t as strong as her words. They waiver as they fall from her lips. </p><p>He wants to make her every promise in the book before he even knows if he can keep them and it’s not about getting his dick wet.</p><p>He misses her. Has missed her every single day since the horrible event in the Chancellor’s office.</p><p>He misses her smile - the soft one she saved just for him. He misses the way she viewed the world  from a different but similar way he did. He misses planning for a future with her even if he hadn’t told her any of it. Most of all he misses the quiet moments, the times when they would just lay together and enjoy being near one another.</p><p>“It was all for you <em>Cyar’ika.</em>” He says with force, as if he said it sure enough he’d convince her that every action he’d ever made in regards to her was completely selfless.</p><p>“Kriff” she curses, shaking her head. Her hand falls away and he misses the warm feeling of her skin against his, “you of all people-“ she mutters under her breath before speaking clearly.</p><p> “I get to make choices Fox. When it comes to my life, I get to weigh the risks and benefits and I get to make choices. You took that away from me. Have I loved being here?” she asks, gesturing around at the sumptuous suite, “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t, but would I have rather been with you? Do you know that answer.”</p><p>Fox shakes his head.</p><p>“That’s right! Because you never asked. The truth is I would have rather been with you every minute of every day of the last three months. Doing paperwork, writing schedules, reviewing supply requisitions, it wouldn’t have mattered because I’d have been with you.”</p><p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>, I didn’t-“</p><p>“No Fox, you didn’t think.” She sniffs lightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life and you pushed me away. You turned your back on me when I needed you and now? Now you’re here and we fall into our old patterns? Not again. Not unless you can promise me you are in this 100% because I can’t do it again. My heart just can’t.” </p><p>Fox reaches out and swipes a trailing tear with his thumb “I-“ She leans into his touch, her cheek resting against his palm as her eyes drift shut. Just one second. she allows herself that. She straightens and steps away before his eyes can memorize the image of her.</p><p>“No, don’t say anything right now. Leave. Think. Decide what it is you really want. If it’s me you can find me and let me know.” There’s a finality to her words that has him biting back any response he may have made. She steps into him, rising up on her toes and gently bumping her forehead against his own.</p><p>“I do love you,” he says quietly.</p><p> Ranna blows out a ragged breath. “I know. You just need to decide if that’s going to be enough.” She moves toward the door, opening it. “Goodnight Fox.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div class=""><p> </p>
<p></p><div class=""><p>The crick in his neck is the least of Fox’s worries when he wakes. It wasn’t like he could call the tossing and turning he’d done for the last six standard hours much of a rest. After returning to his room, tail tucked between his legs, Fox hadn’t been able to unwind. He couldn’t lay his head down without a million thoughts racing through his head.</p></div><div class=""><p>He loved her. </p></div><div class=""><p>Yes, it was something he’d known for a while, maybe even longer than he was willing to admit. He loved her more than he loved himself. For a long time he’d thought that’s how love was supposed to work. You sacrificed yourself for the things you loved. Now he’s not sure.</p></div><div class=""><p>Ranna loved him. It was something he hadn’t hoped for, but after being near her, feeling her lips against his own, seeing the depth of emotion in her sad eyes as she’d kicked him out of her room - he didn’t question it. The issue he finds himself struggling with is hard to put into words. If he couldn’t love himself, if he didn’t think he was worthy, could he truly love her? Ranna was willing to accept him at his most broken, for his flaws and his lingering self doubt. If he couldn’t do the same for himself-</p></div><div class=""><p>The thoughts kept him up the better of the night. He’d lost count of the times he’d walked to his door intent on barging into her room… and doing what? That’s where the plan got dicey and inevitably where he decided against any further action until first light.</p></div><div class=""><p>Of course, by the time he’d fallen asleep he’d been so exhausted that he’d missed first light. It wasn’t until a pair of noisy male tik-tak birds jostled for the affections of a female outside his window that Fox woke.</p></div><div class=""><p>His first thoughts were of Ranna as he shooed the noisy creatures from his open window.</p></div><div class=""><p>He didn’t enjoy the smell of failure -or sweat - that permeated the air around him. He took a sonic shower so fast he would have set a record back on Kamino. </p></div><div class=""><p>He focused on the words he’d say to her. The words that would make her see that he was sorry. That his <em>shabla</em> behavior was a fluke that he could and would correct. That he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her if she’d just give him one more chance.</p></div><div class=""><p> He pauses as he slips into his armor.</p></div><div class=""><p>The rest of his life.</p></div><div class=""><p>He didn’t want her for a moment in time. He wanted her for all time, at his side through whatever life would throw at them. Resolve settles over him, the kind that a lifetime training for battle honed. There’s a certain peace to it.</p></div><div class=""><p><em>Darasuum</em>.</p></div><div class=""><p>Like any good soldier he makes a plan. When she fails to answer her door when he knocks, he goes to plan B. He knocks again. Louder.</p></div><div class=""><p>When that doesn’t work, he moves on to plan C.</p></div><div class=""><p>There’s a small cadre of Jedi and Clones eating a quiet breakfast on the veranda. The sun is just peeking over the waterfalls in the distance. Cody and General Secura are speaking in quiet tones over two cups of caf. General Kenobi sits nursing a cup of tea staring out over the placid lake. Like, a sore thumb, Bly sticks out, devouring whatever pastry and fruit had been piled on his plate like he was a cadet late for morning exercises. He looks up in time to see Fox and give him an encouraging smile and a wave over before taking a bite of some sort of plump sausage even Fox found to be too large.</p></div><div class=""><p>“<em>Vod</em>!” The golden yellow hues of Bly’s facial tattoos seem to glow brighter in the sun. “<em>Su cuy’ga</em>r!” he greets happily.</p></div><div class=""><p>Fox pauses, then pulls out a chair, grabbing a cheese filled pastry from his batch mate’s plate. “<em>Su cuy’gar,</em>” he greets in return. “After the sounds I was hearing last night I wasn’t sure I’d see you in one piece this morning.”</p></div><div class=""><p>“Don’t be fooled. I’m held together by the Force and a prayer. My <em>Aayl’ika</em> does nothing in halves.”</p></div><div class=""><p>Fox, even with the pressure of his impending conversation with his own love weighing on his shoulders, can’t help but chuckle as he steals the other Commander’s mug of caf. </p></div><div class=""><p>“<em>Oya</em>!”</p></div><div class=""><p>Bly snatches the mug back and hot caf sloshes over the edges. The commander of the 327th makes a grunt of discomfort before leaning in and sucking the drops of spilt caf from the space between his thumb and index finger.</p></div><div class=""><p>Fox smothers a laugh with a large bite of pastry. Bly raises an eyebrow before his eyes narrow in on Fox’s mouth.</p></div><div class=""><p>“I know red is your color,” Bly grabs a napkin and tosses it to Fox, who catches it easily, “but I didn’t believe you were a lipstick man, regardless of color.”</p></div><div class=""><p>One swipe across his mouth brings back a small smear of star cherry red lipstick. Ranna’s lipstick. He must have missed it in the shower.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Since I don’t see the lovely <em>dal </em>I’m taking it either went very well or very poorly.”</p></div><div class=""><p>Fox takes another swipe and places the napkin down when it comes back clean. “It’s a work in progress”</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>Bly gives him a serious look, the easy going manner from a moment ago pushed to the back burner.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Tell me, <em>vod</em>. How do you and General Secura-“ Aayla glances up when she hears her name. Fox offers a tight smile. Bly shoots her a wink. “How do you do it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well you see <em>Fox’ika</em>, when a clone loves a Jedi-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Fierfek</em>! Bly I’m being serious!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We’re honest with one another” Aayla’s smooth Ryl accent interrupts whatever comment Bly was getting ready to make. She moves gracefully over from her previous spot near Cody. The Marshal Commander has now joined his Jedi staring peacefully out across the water. Fox doesn’t doubt he’s listening in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He isn’t sure whether he should be thankful for Secura’s intervention or not. Never having had a Jedi of his own, he still has moments where he finds their presence overwhelming. Aayla looks about as intimidating as a loth kitten this morning in leggings and a loose tunic, somehow looking incredibly chic and supremely comfortable all at once. Her eyes find his, searching for something as she sits down next to her Commander. “We’ve had to learn the finer points of communication.” She looks to Bly. Adoration is written across her delicate features as her lekku twitch happily. “We have to be able to trust each other.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s work,” Bly says, taking Aayla’s hand and placing a soft kiss along her knuckles ,“but we make it work.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And after the war?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aayla sighs. “We will cross that bridge when we come to it, but I don’t know if my loyalty can remain with the order alone. Once the Force has shown you something-“ she pauses and smiles softly at Fox, “The Force works in mysterious ways, would you agree?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“General Secura.” Cody’s voice comes from across the veranda because - of course - he was listening, “I believe you forgot to mention respect.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aayla smothers a smile. “Oh yes, respect is quite important.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox is very quickly beginning to feel the nonexistent walls close in around him. “Yes. Yes. “ he grumbles, “I’m a lousy <em>di’kut</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You said that - not us - Commander,” General Kenobi chimes in without turning his head away from the lake spread out before him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Beg your pardon Generals, Commanders, but I don’t need the Force to tell me that I made a fool of myself last night.” He pushes up from his seat, stealing the caf back from Bly and finishing off the dregs. The other Commander makes a disgruntled sound. “Now, if just one of you could point me in the correct direction I have some-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Groveling?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Pleading?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Apologizing?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The voices all mingle together as they chime in and Fox sighs, rubbing his temple.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, all of that and then some. Just-“ he lets out an exasperated sound “-has anyone seen her?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>——-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Really, she’d just hoped to get away for a bit. She needed to separate herself from the faces that looked so much like his and the sad looks they’d given her as she’d picked at her breakfast.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She needed to know that Fox wasn’t just a few easy steps across the hall. She’d stood with her hands flat against the door too many times for her liking last night. It was only a few steps and she could be wrapped up in him, repercussions be damned.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna wanted to pretend that her ultimatum may not end with a choice she wasn’t happy with. If Fox decided he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do what she’d asked, well, she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The field, nearly half a klik from the estate, had become a favorite over the last few months. Close enough to the waterfalls to hear the rush of water over the edge - and catch some mist on a windy day - but rarely visited by locals. It was peaceful. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The summer grasses had easily surpassed the height of her knees weeks ago and - with a little more rain and sunshine - would soon be at her waist. For now it was just long enough to make a makeshift nest when she lay a blanket down. The green stems stood proudly around their brothers and sisters squashed by the worn quilt she spread out. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sun shone softly through a sea of gossamer clouds, its rays warm and soothing as she lay down with a datapad to review Padmé’s personhood bill in its entirety. Ranna couldn’t help the pull of sleep. The legalese of the document and warm kiss of sun paired with the sleeplessness from the night before had her first drowsing then, finally, blessedly sleeping sheltered from the world and her problems that lay outside her ring of softly swaying pastoral grass and millaflowers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her dreams begin as nothing in particular. Another blessing in disguise. Nothing bad troubles her sleep, though nothing good brings tenderness either. Instead she catches glimpses of Coruscant, of Fox and the other boys of the Guard, of a tiny green-skinned twi’lek girl. Images of Luke and Leia older and toddling around with their mother and father laughing and following behind them. Slowly, the boys are filtered out, then the Amidala-Skywalker clan, even little Me’kar fades away. All of it is gone and Ranna finds herself alone in front of a tiny cottage. It has a vegetable garden along one side and rows of flowers along the other. She hears her name whispered softly, the warm rumble of it so familiar.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Mouse</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Mouse</em>”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Mouse.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her eyes flutter open, and she squints into sun spilling around a vaguely humanoid shape while her eyes attempt to adjust to the sudden change. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve been looking all over for you.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She’d know his voice anywhere. Hope springs to life in her chest. He’d come to find her. Surely that had to be a good thing, right? She moves to stand, getting as far as sitting before he makes a disgruntled sound and angles himself down and onto her blanket. She watches him look around, his head barely above the tall grasses surrounding them. His gaze moves to her discarded shoes and bare feet, slowly traveling up over her calves where her dress has ridden up in her sleep. She blinks, trying to push the residual fog of sleep from her head. Fox’s gloved hand reaches out and skims over her ankle. That electric spark she’d felt at his touch last night is still there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fox?” He won’t look her in the eyes. The feeling of his touch is missed when he pulls his hand away. “Fox-“ she tries again, hiding and failing to hide the slight quiver in her voice.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He holds his hand up. “I have things to say and I need you to listen to every one. I’m- I’m not sure if you’re going to like what I have to say.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna nods slowly. He’s more his namesake now, more animal than she’s ever seen him. She moves slowly to rise to her knees, afraid the wrong move, a sudden quick one, will see him breaking away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can do that,” she offers slowly. Fear at what he has to say leaves a thick knot in her stomach. “If we’re going to do this, though, I need to see your eyes. Ok?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox makes another sound, a small grunt of assent as she rises on her knees and puts her hands to either side of his bucket. She releases the locks, hears the gentle hiss of release. His features are schooled when she lifts it off, but she knows her Fox. Whatever he has to say is eating at him. She can see it in the dark circles that rest underneath his eyes, the exhaustion that looks almost permanent in the soft brown eyes she adores so much. Always the caregiver, she fights the urge to pull him down, make him lay his head in her lap. She wants to card her fingers through the new growth of hair, brush through the locks that were just beginning to curl and swirl at the ends until he falls asleep. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But she also needs to know what he has to say. She needs her answer so her heart can shatter or mend because whatever it is, there will be no in between. Not with him. Not with them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She watches him swallow, look at the sky and the soft clouds above them before bringing his attention back to her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve made mistakes in my life,” he begins, “Some of them widely known. You- you are the mistake I regret the most.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna attempts to turn away, but she can’t. His words- it feels like she’s watching a hover train come off the rails in slow motion. Fox glances down at his hands, squeezes them into fists.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I-“ his eyes travel back to hers, pinning her in place “I’ve called you my precious girl more times than I can remember, because to me you are the most precious gift the maker has ever deemed fit to give me. But you're not a girl. You’re a woman,. A smart, strong, caring woman and I called you a girl. When things got hard, I treated you like one, like I had never made a mistake, like I knew what was best for the both of us.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna can see it in the little ways he moves, the clench of his fingers and the way his eyes trail to her shoulder, the scar covered by the thin summer dress, that it is taking everything for him to muscle through this.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fox, why are you saying this?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Because I need you to know.” His jaw is set in a sharp line. “I need you to know that I’ve thought about you every day since you left Coruscant, that I dream about you every night. I need you to know that I’m afraid to be around you, that even with the chip gone and that- that <em>hut’uun</em>,” spitting the word out as if it tastes bad in his mouth, “dead, I’m scared that it’s not enough, that someone is going to say the wrong thing and I’m going to do something you won’t come back from - and there’ll be no field of wildflowers for me to find you sleeping in, because you’ll be dead and it will be my fault”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna grabs his hand, forces her fingers between his until he relents and lets her hold it. Her other reaches up, strokes along his right temple and feels the telltale ridge of scar under her fingers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Listen to me.” It’s a firm order and his eyes go a little wide. “You are not a bad man. You never have been. You never will be. You are the reason I’m alive. Your will, your strength kept you from making a shot I know for a fact you could make in your sleep. The scars I bear are your love brought to life.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox shakes his head quickly. “That is sick, <em>cyar’ika</em>, you were-“ </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s Ranna’s turn to make a sound of discontentment as she pulls at the collar of her dress, stretching it out and down around her shoulder. “Look at it,” she demands. When he hesitates, she places his hand on it, holds it down with her own. “It’s just skin, just flesh over bone. Do you think Palpatine would have allowed me to live even if you hadn’t been the one to do it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her hand slides his down to her chest where she holds it high on her left breast. “This has always been yours. Do you feel it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox’s fingers twitch over her racing heart. She had to make him see. Even if this was the last moment they were ever together, he had to leave without the guilt. “This has always been yours,” she repeats again, “You protected it and I’m alive because of it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox pulls away from her with a rough exhale, shaking his head. Ranna lowers herself, sitting on her feet, pretending she doesn’t feel the pins and needles building in them. He won’t look at her as she adjusts the neck of her dress back. She’s failed. The sudden realization hits with such certainty. She was going to lose him for good.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You are so warm. You draw people to you and take them in, claim them as yours and care for them. You’ve never seen myself or any of the other Guard as just clones. From day one you spoke to each and every trooper you met as an individual. You’ve always tried to help and for some reason I was the one lucky enough to have you helping me. Even when I was acting like <em>osik</em>. Even when I was gruff and dismissive. You dealt with me-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“-And I loved you” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Love</em> her head screams at her to correct but she doesn’t. Fox nods.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Someone else will come along and they’ll love you with everything they have to give.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna feels a sharp pain in her chest and tries to turn away. Fox’s curled finger catches under her chin and brings her eyes back up to his. Ranna sees something steely in their warm depths.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They’ll give you the world. Everything I can’t. But you know what?” He lets the question hang in the air for a moment. “I don’t want anyone else to love you. That’s my job. I don’t want to lose you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I ever put you in a position to think otherwise.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Relief, warm and fluid fills her veins as tears threaten at the corners of her eyes. Fox watches with slow building panic.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I- please don’t cry.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna laughs then and leans up, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss that he doesn’t respond to immediately. When she pulls back, he looks pleasantly bewildered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m not sad.” She wipes aggressively at a tear rolling down her cheek. “These are happy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fox’s hands cup her cheeks, his thumb brushing away another stray tears. “Well if that’s all…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> He leans in and captures her mouth in another sweet, delicate kiss, pours his love into it until it’s spilling over and Ranna thinks she could happily drown in the feel of it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she attempts to deepen the kiss, he pulls back. Ranna bites the inside of her cheek to stop a whine from escaping.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My self control is negligible at this point.” Fox manages a strained laugh while he cradles her face. “I don’t want to rush-“</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna presses forward and kisses him hard, sharp teeth nipping just this side of painful along his lower lip. The growl she’s missed over the last few months rumbles in his chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she pulls back, letting his lip slip between her teeth, she can’t help but appreciate the way his eyes have darkened. His hands fall down to her hips and he stares. Just stares into her eyes, searching for something. Ranna doesn’t look away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You want to do this right here?” His voice is thick with the familiar gravel of lust and Ranna feels a wave of heat ripple through her body. Right here, on the blanket in the warm sun where anyone could see. There’s a certain thrill to that thought. She swallows thickly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We need to slow down,” Fox repeats.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you saying that for you or me? Because I’ve been waiting months to touch you,” she admits. If possible, Fox’s eyes darken more at the admission. She’s always loved his durasteel will, but right now Ranna found it more than a little irritating. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>.” His tone is warm, but the warning underneath is very clear. Ok. Fine. She could go a bit longer. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Can I show you something?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as his thumbs brush small light circles over her dress. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I suppose it depends on what you're trying to show me.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ranna leans forward and the pair meet in a slow kiss, just a soft press of their mouths that neither can seem to deny. She murmurs against his lips when she pulls back. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come with me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>——-</p>
  <p>Fox’s head is reeling, but he feels like he’s holding it together well. He’s pretty sure she can’t feel the shaking in his hand as she takes it and drags him to his feet. Her smile is soft and comforting. It’s home. Ranna is home.</p>
  <p>His bucket is left on to rest on the blanket as she leads him through the grass. Wildflowers press into the plates of his armor, leaving yellow smears of pollen in their wake. Ranna looks over her shoulder as they go. Fox wonders if she feels the same way he does, like this is all a dream that will be over the second he wakes. That he’s desperate to stay under its sway just a little while longer.</p>
  <p>“Come on <em>Al’verde</em>,” she teases, “I feel like I’m dragging a ton of duracrete. Pick up your feet.”</p>
  <p>Fox yanks her hand and she stumbles back toward him, hands colliding with his chest as she breaks into a fit of laughter so honeyed and sweet it would make the bees jealous. She rolls up onto the balls of her feet and kisses his chin, then the tip of his nose. If the boys could see him now, grinning down at her like a fool in love, like a man who didn’t have the weight of a thousand suns on his shoulders.</p>
  <p>“Stop trying to distract me. I told you I want to show you something,” she says, pulling away before he can get his lips on hers.</p>
  <p>She leads him toward the small pool of water he’d passed coming to find her, where twin waterfalls keep the water bubbling and a fine mist of droplets in the air. They cling to her hair and weigh down the thin fabric of her dress, highlighting the soft curves he was denying himself.</p>
  <p>“Where are you taking me, little Mouse?”</p>
  <p>She doesn’t answer, instead flashing that enigmatic smile again and leading him to a rock wall that shot up suddenly from green pasture and up into the sky. The sound of water is loud, not quite deafening but definitely distracting. Ranna lets loose his hand and slips in between a gap in the slab wall. He is a far bigger fan of his <em>cyar’ika</em> than he is of tight spaces, but it still gives him a moment’s hesitation, finally broken by her teasing voice calling his name.</p>
  <p>It’s dark, damp with moisture clinging to the walls that press in on him, but again, before they begin to close in around him, he hears her voice call to him and he follows it like a beacon. In reality the passage is short and opens quickly into a larger cavity. Light spills in and his eyes have barely adjusted before Ranna is pressing into him. Fox stumbles back a half step and laughs as he leans down, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. Ranna rests her head against his shoulder as he takes in his surroundings.</p>
  <p>“I found it my first week here” she says softly. He nearly doesn’t hear her over the sound of rushing water. It wasn’t a true cave so much as it was an alcove behind one of the twin falls. “The flow has eased off as the rains have. When I first came I couldn’t even hear myself think. I think maybe that’s what I liked about it.”</p>
  <p>Fox knows the feeling well, remembers throwing himself into his work to try to forget.</p>
  <p>“Did it help?” Work hadn’t helped for him, nor had sparring with Hound, hitting the blaster range with Ryk, or any of the other half dozen things he’d done to push thoughts of her away.</p>
  <p>Ranna offers him a sad smile before turning and walking toward the edge of the cave and reaching out letting water splash over her finger tips. “No.”</p>
  <p>He can’t hold her gaze. Instead his eyes rove, search for something to focus on other than her and the feeling of failure that wells up on him. Ranna hadn’t been the only explorer to find the secret cave. Names are etched into the rock walls. Sets of initials added together, hearts and promises and small bits of flowery poetry of different ages. Generation upon generation of infatuations, puppy loves, lust, and tenderness written into stone for all eternity.</p>
  <p>“Fox? You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”</p>
  <p>The nearness to the falls has only made the cling of fabric to her skin worse. The pale blue is nearly sheer in parts and Fox tries not to focus on the way it sticks to her legs, outlines their shape. “Do what?”</p>
  <p>“Feeling bad for me? Feeling bad for you? Take your pick.” Her voice is teasing but her eyes belay the seriousness underlying her words. “Don’t. It’s as easy as that, right? Just stop.” She beckons him with a small wave of her fingers.</p>
  <p>“Come here so I can show you what’s so special.”</p>
  <p>Fox closes the distance between them as she turns back to the rushing water. His body slots in behind hers. His hands circle her hips and he frowns again at just how much weight she lost.</p>
  <p>Her fingers, cooled by the running water, reach back over her shoulder and cup his cheek. “I know it’s hard,” she says, all teasing gone, “but we’re going to do this together.”</p>
  <p>“Communication,” he whispers quietly. “It’s important,” he clarifies. Ranna nods, her head falling back to rest against his chest.</p>
  <p>“I’m going to communicate this then -I don’t now, nor have I ever blamed you for what has transpired. You’re no more at fault than I am.”</p>
  <p>“But you’re not at fau-“ he stops abruptly. “I see what you’re saying, but it’s easier to say than to believe.”</p>
  <p>“Fake it until you make it.”</p>
  <p>He shakes his head, a bitter laugh working its way past his lips before he leans forward and kisses the hair at the top of her head.</p>
  <p>“That easy?”</p>
  <p>“Was anything worth it ever easy?” she asks softly.</p>
  <p>The simple answer was no. It all took work. It had taken nearly a year for him to kiss her for the first time, hadn’t it?</p>
  <p>“Fake it ‘til I make it,” he repeats, and he can feel as much as he can hear the contented hum she makes.</p>
  <p>“Exactly. Now, what time have you got?” The sudden change of subject has him raising a brow and his vambrace up to look at the built in chrono. He rattles off the time and she makes another contented sound.</p>
  <p>“Perfect timing. Now watch.” She stares out into the falling water. He’s nearly ready to ask what he’s watching for when a change in the light hits the droplets just right. Rainbows are thrown across the inside of the cave. Some steady, like the continuous fall of water, some here and gone as the stream is broken. He’s never seen anything like it. It’s stunning. Ranna leans back into his chest. The armor isn’t comfortable to rest on but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He wishes it wasn’t between them.</p>
  <p>“Isn’t it beautiful?”</p>
  <p>It is.</p>
  <p>A small laugh bubbles from her lips as she turns and her fingers trace the strays colors flickering at his temple. One hand rests over his heart. She’s happy and in his arms and the moment is perfect.</p>
  <p>“Marry me.”</p>
  <p>The words slip from his lips faster than credits from a gamblers hands on Canto Bight.</p>
  <p>Ranna startles, pulls back and then her foot is coming out from under her and her arms go to grabbing, finding purchase on one of his. Her weight, however slight, combined with his surprise are enough to drag him forward with her as the pair falls through the rushing water and immediately into the pool below.</p>
  <p>Ranna comes up laughing and sputtering. Her teeth set to chattering almost instantly. Fox doesn’t find it nearly as funny, even less so when Ranna’s eyes fall on him and peals of laughter escape her til she can barely breathe. He’s cold and he can’t believe he asked that question.</p>
  <p>“You look like an angry tooka!” she barely manages to get out as he crosses his arms over his chest.</p>
  <p>“I’m all wet.”</p>
  <p>Ranna rises to her feet. The pool is shallow and only comes up to her hips. Her dress has gone sheer and leaves nothing to the imagination as she splashes water at her grumpy paramour. “So am I.”</p>
  <p>His hair hangs nearly to his brows, pasted down against his forehead. Ranna squeals as his eyes narrow and he lunges for her. She barely gets away from his first attempt, but is far to slow for his second. He hauls her into his arms and holds her close.</p>
  <p>“Gotcha.”</p>
  <p>Ranna squirms and laughs in his grip but she isn’t really trying to get away. She only manages to give him a better look at the curve of her breasts and the pale shadow of peaked nipples through it.</p>
  <p>“Don’t do it,” she warns.</p>
  <p>Fox smiles, aiming for innocence but failing miserably. “Do what? Do…. this?”</p>
  <p>He falls back, dragging her with him into the cold clear pool. Water clings to her lashes as they both come up gasping and laughing. He nearly apologizes but Ranna’s lips are on his, her hands at either side of his head.</p>
  <p>Where her lips are cold, her tongue is warm and welcome as it strokes along his own. Suddenly the water doesn’t seem so cold, his soaked blacks underneath the layer of composite armor doesn’t chafe so much. It’s easy to forget the world exists outside of the pair of them and the soft sounds she’s making at the back of her throat and the equally needy moans she’s pulling from him.</p>
  <p>He buries his face in her neck when she pulls back, nipping and sucking to reacquaint himself with all the sweet spots and equally enticing sounds they produced.</p>
  <p>“Are we going to do this here?” She pants out his question from earlier. The want in her voice mirrors the one he felt.</p>
  <p>“Kriff…” He manages to drag his mouth away from her wet skin. One arm around her waist secures her to him as he lets the rest of her body slide back into the water. He chuckles at her hiss as the cold envelopes her again.</p>
  <p>“Ok. New plan-“</p>
  <p>“Your room or mine?”</p>
  <p>————</p>
  <p>There’s going to be tiny puddles of water leading from the garden all the way up to the guest rooms. Ranna can look behind them and see them forming, falling between Fox’s armor and skin. They get particularly bad every so often. Like now, where the urge has overwhelmed one or both. Fox has her back pressed firmly against the wall, a tapestry on either side of them whose beauty is going completely unrecognized as she hikes a leg up over and around his hip. Fox’s mouth is fused to hers as a free hand massages her breast through the damp fabric.</p>
  <p>“Going to make you scream my name.” Fox comes up for air, pressing his forehead into hers as they both pant. She squirms against him seeking friction that will ease the building tension.</p>
  <p>Neither of them sees the Chancellor until he is clearing his throat.</p>
  <p>“Well, it’s good to see that you two have made your amends.” She can feel Fox’s spine go rigid as her leg falls. He puts only a hair’s breadth of space between them, stepping slightly between her and Bail Organa.</p>
  <p>“Sir, I was just showing the lady back to her quarters.”</p>
  <p>Ranna stifles a laugh, and Chancellor Organa seems to be holding back one of his own. Ranna presses into Fox’s back and peers around to the Chancellor.</p>
  <p>“We’ve been having a very heated discussion on the personhood bill, Chancellor.” She offers.</p>
  <p>Fox glances back at her with a filthy smile. “<em>Very heated</em> sir. It may take us the rest of the day to come to terms with it.” He glances back at the Chancellor and Ranna notes, not for the first time, the friendship that has blossomed between the two. He’d never been so relaxed when talking about Palp- He’d never dared an ounce of impropriety before but now he was blatantly flaunting his highly inappropriate relationship without the least hint of shame.</p>
  <p>Bail let’s his eyes roam between the pair for half a second, “As you were Commander, who am I to get in the way of <em>aggressive negotiations</em>? I expect a full report at breakfast tomorrow.”</p>
  <p>Fox bites back a smile. “Breakfast will be fine sir though my report may be heavily redacted.”</p>
  <p>Bail shakes his head with a laugh, finally giving in. “So be it.” He takes a half a step to move past them before stopping. “I would take the back way upstairs. Your <em>vode</em> and their generals are having an impromptu Sabaac tournament in the parlor and you won’t get away from them as easily as you will from me.” Fox nods.</p>
  <p>“Also Commander?”</p>
  <p>Fox cocks his head in question.</p>
  <p>“I’m happy for you.”</p>
  <p>“Thank you, Sir.”</p>
  <p>Bail gives his pauldron a quick pat as he walks by. Ranna watches as the Chancellor moves down the hall without a look back. When her eyes do move back to the man in front of her, a new heat is burning in his eyes. She stifles a laugh as he scoops her up.</p>
  <p>“You’re taking far too much time <em>cyar’ika</em>.”</p>
  <p>Ranna finally does laugh as she points in the direction of the back stairs. “Me? I believe it was you who said this seemed like as good a spot as any.” She pitches her voice low in mockery of his own.</p>
  <p>“You do a horrible impression,” he mutters, taking the steps two at a time. He’s not even breathing heavy by the time he reaches his room and eases them through the door.</p>
  <p>Ranna’s feet have barely hit the floor before she starts helping pull off bits of armor. His bucket, attached to his belt for safekeeping, is carefully shucked into the small corner table as a pile of drippy plastoid begins to take shape on the floor. When he’s down to just his clinging Blacks he moves on her.</p>
  <p>“You have too much on.”</p>
  <p>Ranna grins as she bends, grips the hem of the dress, before pulling it up and over her head. She tosses it lazily to the side.</p>
  <p>“Still too much,” he says slowly, as his eyes rove over her. Ranna laughs as he closes the space between them.</p>
  <p>“I’ve got panties on Fox. That’s it.” She makes a small surprised sound as he drops to his knees in front of her. A surge of excitement catches her off guard as Fox’s hands grip her hips and pull her body close. She can feel the scratchy stubble along his chin as he nuzzles at the small dip where her thigh meets her hip.</p>
  <p>“Still too much.”</p>
  <p>He’s looking up the line of her body and Ranna feels something like power flowing through her as he leans in and places a soft kiss over her hip bone. His thumbs hook in the band of her simple panties and push them down over her sex, below her knees, to her feet where he gently encourages her to step out of them.</p>
  <p>“Better?” He’s barely touched her but she already feels breathless.</p>
  <p>He leans in, rests his head against the flat plain of her stomach, his warm breath tickles as his hand strokes up and down her thighs. “Yes. Much.”</p>
  <p>A glint of silver flashes at his temple as Ranna brings her hand to stroke through his hair. Fox’s eyes slip shut. All the rush to arrive has led to this, a serene moment. A moment that leaves Ranna feeling more connected to him than any kiss on their way back to the estate.</p>
  <p>“I see you have a perfectly lovely bed waiting for us.”</p>
  <p>Fox turns into her body and presses his lips along her tummy then to her hip. “Can’t lie,” he murmurs against her skin, “I’m pretty content right here.” His eyes flutter shut once more as her nails gently rake across his scalp.</p>
  <p>“<em>Cyare</em>,” she whispers softly, “take me to bed?”</p>
  <p>Rising slowly to his feet Fox doesn’t let himself lose contact with her body once. His  motions are unhurried. “Your accent is getting better.”</p>
  <p>“I’ve had some help.”</p>
  <p>Fox doesn’t ask who. He has an idea and he’ll probably have to thank them at some point, but he’d rather not think of the Marshal Commander while he makes love to his girlfriend.</p>
  <p>Ranna steps away, smiling coyly over her shoulder as he reaches after her. The soft sway of her hips makes his mouth go dry.</p>
  <p>“I feel like you’re the one with too many clothes now, <em>Al’verde</em>.”</p>
  <p>There’s an underlying confidence to her that he doesn’t remember, a way she moves, a way she holds his gaze. It makes him want. It makes him need.</p>
  <p>Just like she had with her dress, he is quick to pull off the black under armor top he wore but the reaction as her eyes trace over him isn’t quite the same as when she’d performed the same maneuver.</p>
  <p>Ranna’s eyes go wide as she focuses on his chest.</p>
  <p>“What is that?”</p>
  <p>Why has her voice gone so quiet? He glances down and realizes-</p>
  <p>“Oh Fox…”  her hand is warm against his bare chest as she matches it up with the tattooed replica of her print.</p>
  <p>“We’ll talk about it later, <em>cyar’ika</em>.” He tries to sound persuasive but the petite creature in front of him is not having it.</p>
  <p>Fox allows her to drag him the last few steps to the bed. He plops down with a tired sigh.</p>
  <p>“We’ll talk about it now.” It’s a gentle order but an order nonetheless.</p>
  <p>“Communication?”</p>
  <p>Ranna nods as she slides into his lap, a leg falling to either side of his. Fox’s hands come up automatically, one on her lower back and the other with fingers flexed over her bottom. “That would be a good start,” she encourages. Leaning in, Ranna presses her forehead to his.</p>
  <p>“Now, why?”</p>
  <p>It’s the most arousing interrogation he’s ever been a part of. One part of his brain says to kiss her and make her forget she ever had a question in the first place, but the other reminds him of Bly and General Secura.</p>
  <p>Promises could be made ‘til the end of time, but if he didn’t follow through, if he didn’t show her that he intended to hold himself to that standard than everything he said, no matter how poetic or romantic, meant bantha shit.</p>
  <p>“I didn’t want to forget you.”</p>
  <p>“Oh Fox…”</p>
  <p>He wishes she wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t like the sadness that fills her voice, like it’s not for herself but for him. Fox tips his head away ducking around her until he can press his cheek against the smooth expanse of her neck. Nothing about this came easy and she seems to give him the simple gift of a small escape.</p>
  <p>“I failed you. I couldn’t let myself forget that,” he continues, his lips moving against her skin. His lips brush over her pulse and Ranna inhales so sweet and soft it nearly shatters him.</p>
  <p>“Didn’t fail,” she manages out. Her hand slips between them and traces over the inked lines. “You could never.”</p>
  <p>“Your faith in me is moving, <em>cyar'ika</em>, but I’m afraid your love for me has left you blind.”</p>
  <p>Ranna laughs as his lips brush butterfly soft under her ear. Goosebumps erupt over her body. “So be it <em>ner darasuum</em>. Let me be blind and happy. It’s much preferable to being alone and sad.”</p>
  <p>Fox freezes and draws back. Ranna looks so serene and at peace even though there’s no taking back what she’s just called him.  My Forever.</p>
  <p>Ranna’s hands gently cradle his cheeks. Her mouth curls into a smile, beatific and knowing. Fox feels like his chest is going to explode.</p>
  <p>“<em>Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum</em>.” The words slip from her lips with the smoothness of a nonnative speaker who is only becoming proficient. “Apparently, it was important for a silly little Mouse to learn more Mando’a.”</p>
  <p>Words fail him. Even if he wasn’t saying the right thing he usually had something to say, but not to that. Not to her declaration worded in his preferred language, not when she was perched naked in his arms. Not when she looked down on him like she saw all his sins and cared for him in spite of them.</p>
  <p>Fox leans in and captures her mouth with his own, cherishing the feeling of plump wanting lips under his own as he pulls her in close and presses his body against hers. Ranna goes pliant in his arms, moulding to his body as her arms snake around his neck. Her hips rock lazily, grinding against the hard line of him without any real intent just yet. He wishes he would have taken his pants off first. The telltale heat of her center is painfully close, the fabric already becoming damp with her arousal.</p>
  <p>A quiet, needy sound rises up in her throat as his tongue strokes along hers. Last night had given him a none too gentle reminder of what a pleasure it was to touch her. Earlier in the cave, it had been a tease of what was to come. Now there was no chance she was getting away from him. No ultimatums, no <em>di’kutla </em>proposals to ruin the moment. It was just them and the sunlight soaked day stretching out ahead.</p>
  <p>Ranna’s tongue slides along his own. She’s less languid now. Her body rolls against his with intimate purpose. Each time she grinds down on him her breasts press against his chest. He’s lightheaded from the press of her skin, hot against his.</p>
  <p>His blacks feel constricting.They’re irritating and uncomfortably tight. Fox attempts to push them down with one hand but there’s no room between them. He lifts his hips and she lets out a needy moan into his mouth that makes the aching hardness pressing against his thigh that much worse.</p>
  <p>One hand slides up the bare expanse of her spine, feels the little ridges as it goes. Fox’s fingers tangle in her loose hair and pull her away. Ranna whines at the loss.</p>
  <p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>, precious one, sweet love of my life,” he starts, “if I don’t get these pants off I’m going to cum in them like some shiny cadet.”</p>
  <p>It takes a moment for her to swing her leg over him, kneeling to the side. His focus shifts to getting his no good, kriffing blacks off his legs while Ranna seems to want to challenge his ability to complete any task. He watches as she leans. Starting at the edge of his shoulder, she begins laying trailing kisses. He falls back onto the elbow nearest her to keep his body propped, allowing her easier movement while his other hand grips at the waist of his blacks and yanks them down as he lifts his hips up. It’s such a relief when his cock bobs free that he nearly groans.</p>
  <p>He does groan when Ranna’s smart little mouth moves from his collarbone down to his tattoo. It’s fascinating watching as she kisses each red inked finger. He reaches down and grasps the hardness between his legs and pumps it lazily.</p>
  <p>From the tips of the tattoo she trails her tongue over his heated skin, moving down until her mouth opens to envelop his nipple. Fox can’t help but arch at the sensation of her hot mouth as she gently alternates between nipping and sucking..</p>
  <p>“<em>Fierfek</em>,” he curses lowly as she continues to heap attention on him. Her other hand slips down his body and shoos his own away from his cock. It’s heaven to watch her wrap her delicate fingers around him and pump, gathering beads of precum to aid in lubricating each stroke.</p>
  <p>He curses again as her thumb sweeps over the weeping slit. Mouse’s mouth comes free from his nipple with a soft ‘pop’ of release and she places one more kiss in the center of his tattoo.</p>
  <p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>, I want to taste you.” His cock comes to rest, hard and leaking into his belly as she lets go.</p>
  <p>“I think we’ll be discussing the logistics of the bill <em>all night,</em> don’t you?” Ranna offers him a heavy-lidded smile as she pushes on his opposite shoulder until he gives in and falls back onto a matching elbow.</p>
  <p>Fox can only nod mutely as one leg is draped back over his lap. “Right now I don’t want to play anymore.” She says softly, taking his cock in hand and lining it up with her center. “I need you, Fox.”</p>
  <p>A low groan escapes them both as the angry red tip of him comes into contact and swipes along her drenched outer lips. She moves him back and forth, collecting her slick along the tip of his cock as she goes.  Her mouth falls open in a quiet moan as she uses his weeping tip to rub her clit. The teasing is exquisite torture. Months of longing and desire build with each touch of her skin to his.</p>
  <p>One hand shoots forward and steadies her hip as she slowly begins to take him. Usually he’d have used his fingers to help prepare her body, but she’s not having any of that right now. He watches her move, taking little bits at a time. Her head falls back, her eyes shut and her lips parted. That possessive little part in his soul purrs at the sight of his woman, his partner splitting herself open, desperate for him.</p>
  <p>“Say it again,” he demands, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip.</p>
  <p>Ranna feels drunk on sensation. It’s been too long since she’s had him and each inch she takes stretches her body deliciously.</p>
  <p>“I need you, Fox,” she repeats. Her eyes flutter open to meet the soft golden brown hues of his own locked intently on her.</p>
  <p>This is better than any dream, any late night with her fingers working furiously pretending they were something they weren’t, better than the discreetly packaged toy she’d purchased off the holonet. All were poor facsimiles for what she felt now as she comes to rest against his body feeling overwhelmingly full. </p>
  <p>“Feel so good,” Fox praises, his voice gone rough, drawn tight like the muscle straining in his neck, “Missed touching you.”</p>
  <p>Fox’s hand strays from her hip, thumb skimming along her belly as he slides it up her body. Ranna moves her hips tentatively as his rough fingers skim over her breast and capture the pebbled peak topping it. He rolls the dusky tip of her nipple between his fingers, drawing a ragged moan from her.</p>
  <p>“You ready to move, <em>cyar’ika</em>?” he purrs as he plucks gently. The sensation travels straight to her center. She can’t help but arch into his touch, crying out softly at the combination of stimuli. Fox’s hips jerk seemingly against his own will, just a micro movement, but it makes her head spin all the same as she slowly begins to rock her body, rising up oh so slightly before sinking back down fully. Ranna watches as his head falls back and his hand falls back to her hip in a desperate grip.</p>
  <p>Soft sounds spill from her lips, a constant flow of pleasure for him to hear.</p>
  <p>“Look at me,” he demands raggedly as her eyes fall shut again. His hips cant up to meet her, their bodies rolling together in a sinuous motion.</p>
  <p>She hears his name fall from her lips, full of love and desperation. In a smooth movement Fox is pushing himself into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around her, tight bands of muscle she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. Her rhythm is lost as he moves them back, until his back is against the headboard. His knees angle up behind her. An arm stays banded around her as he uses the leverage to begin to fuck up into her willing body. It takes a moment for her to find her rhythm again as bright beams of pleasure shock her system each time the head of his cock brushes against her sensitive walls. He chuckles as she makes a frustrated sound.</p>
  <p>“There, there, precious. I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling against her throat. His breath is hot on her skin and she struggles to ground herself among the sea of emotions swirling around her. She feels his teeth graze along her collarbone and her body clenches around him. Fox growls low against her skin. Ranna holds tight to one shoulder, nails leaving angry half moon marks, as her other hand grasps for the short hair at the back of his head.</p>
  <p>Dark marks are sucked into the skin on the column of her neck, her shoulder, the soft spot just below her jaw. She shouldn’t enjoy his possessiveness as much as she does, but Ranna can’t help the way she rocks just a little harder against him thinking about what she’ll see in the mirror tomorrow. A feeling, tight and winding, begins to build low in her belly leaving her feeling like she was in a race to catch up.</p>
  <p>Fox feels it too, the telltale seizing of muscles as her body began its hunt toward climax.  Her nails dig sharply into his skin as he finds her mouth. It’s sloppy and needy. Ranna’s teeth nip at his lip and he feels his own end threatening, a telltale tingle starting at the base of his spine. Not yet though.</p>
  <p>Their bodies move together, finally finding some semblance of familiarity after so long apart. The quiet whimpers that have been slowly spilling from her mouth become louder echoing pleasantly in his ears.</p>
  <p>“You’re close, aren’t you? Me too.” Her hips stutter at his observation. “I want to feel you first. Can you do that for me?”</p>
  <p>“Fox- please.” There was something about the way she asked, so polite with her “please” that strokes his ego, bringing a self-satisfied grin to his face.</p>
  <p>“What do you need, little Mouse?”</p>
  <p>“Ask me again,” she demands breathlessly, “Please ask me again.”</p>
  <p>Ask? Ask what? At this point he’d honestly do anything she asked of him. His brows knit together and she must see his confusion through the fog of her desire.</p>
  <p>“Earlier. Under the falls- you asked-“ Fox’s hand drops between them, finds her clit and begins rubbing it in smooth circles. Ranna’s back arches and her head falls against his shoulder.</p>
  <p>“Again. Ask again.” She begs softly.</p>
  <p>Did she mean-?</p>
  <p>“Ranna, look at me” he demands, slowing down just enough to turn his head, nuzzle his nose against hers until he’s sure her lust darkened eyes are focused only on his. “Marry me?”</p>
  <p>“Fox… Fox… Fox…” she so close he can feel her body pulled taut like a bow. Sweat drips between their bodies as they chase release together. “Yes. Maker- yes.” She manages out seconds before waves of pleasure wash over her. She calls out his name in basic and again, softer, in Mando’a. It comes out as a sweet Fox’ika he’s never heard her use before.</p>
  <p>He holds her close, working her through her high until he can no longer keep his own pace and his body coils tight and snaps. The world whites out as he finds his end in her, each pulse of his cock met by the vice grip of her body around him seemingly working in tandem with his to bring about an orgasm that leaves him overwhelmed and disoriented.</p>
  <p>Ranna trembles in his arms. It’s the first thing he’s able to note as he comes back into himself. The next is that her lips are peppering his skin lazily with feather light kisses, murmuring soft words against his neck.</p>
  <p>And then it hits him.</p>
  <p>He nearly jostles her from her position straddling his lap with the sharp movement he makes. She wraps her arms around his neck and has the audacity to laugh at his stunned expression</p>
  <p>“You want to marry me?”</p>
  <p>Ranna leans in and kisses the very tip of his nose. “You already asked me that, silly.” Her fingers tease gently at the short hair at the back of his head.</p>
  <p>“I- <em>Kriff</em>, you know what I meant.” He slips his hands up between her arms and holds her face. Her eyes are soft and relaxed, her cheeks still painted with a flush of pink, a small smile tugs at her lips. She looks perfectly content and… in love.</p>
  <p>With him.</p>
  <p>“Of course I want to marry you, taking care of you is a full time job-“ He drags her in for a kiss, slanting his mouth over hers. When she pulls back she’s laughing. “-at least this way I can collect the fringe benefits.”</p>
  <p>He feels a smile split his own features in two.</p>
  <p>Ranna squirms in his grip. The fading blush returns with a vengeance as he slips from her body, an unquestionable wet trickle following. While she may be embarrassed, he finds it sinfully hot to have his seed marking her thigh. He takes pity though and lets her escape to the ‘fresher. He lets his head fall back against the headboard. He can’t wipe the smile from his face. In his wildest dreams he never saw this playing out like it had.</p>
  <p>The sound of the door opening has him turning his head lazily in her direction. He’s pretty sure she’s a goddess. Nope. Strike that. He was positive she was a Goddess and somehow she was his.</p>
  <p>She tosses a warm washcloth his way and averts her eyes as he cleans up. It makes him chuckle as he does. She crawls back into bed as he finishes and attempts to lay next but that wasn’t going to work. Instead he drags her back into his lap. She curls into him as soon as she’s in place, legs off one side, head resting on his opposite shoulder all the while looking like she was made to be there.</p>
  <p>“When do you think we could do it?” she asks softly,”It’s not exactly legal.”</p>
  <p>He’s already thought of that.</p>
  <p>“We could do it anytime you want. The old Mandalorian way. Exchange some vows and bam! Married.” Her brows furl in thought “unless you want to wait for-“</p>
  <p>“I’m not Mandalorian.”</p>
  <p>“And I’m just a poor facsimile of one,” he huffs when her frown deepens. “It’s the vow that matters. If you believe in the words you’re saying, the vow you make, what does it matter?” Her hand feels so soft and so fragile in his own as he brings it up to his lips and gently kisses along her knuckles.</p>
  <p>“So we could do this?”</p>
  <p>“We could do this.”</p>
  <p>“When?” There’s an excitement stirring in her voice and he doesn’t try to hide the matching energy on his own.</p>
  <p>“Whenever you wa-“</p>
  <p>“Now. I want it now.” She slips off his lap and turns to him, kneeling. Her eyes are as bright as the stars in the sky and far more captivating as far as Fox is concerned. He sits up a little straighter.</p>
  <p>“You’re serious, Ran? Just like that?”</p>
  <p>Ranna nods. She’s never been so sure of anything in her life. When he’d said it earlier today she was scarcely sure she heard him correctly, and then the icy bath in the pool had worked wonders in rearranging her priorities.</p>
  <p>“Stop questioning me. You’d think you’d be happy to-“</p>
  <p>He steals the air from her lungs and the words from her mouth with a kiss that, had her panties not already been on floor, would have surely put them there. His hands cup her face and she’s thankful for the anchor they provide as she whimpers into his mouth.  She lets out a ragged breath as he pulls back just enough for her to focus.</p>
  <p>“<em>Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde</em>.“</p>
  <p>Maker bless Cody because she understands every word Fox says. The Marshal Commander hadn’t even blinked when she’d posed her question.</p>
  <p>“You have to breathe <em>Cyar’ika</em>,” Fox whispers and Ranna lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Fox’s brows bunch together as her silence stretches. “We don’t have to-“</p>
  <p>Ranna presses a finger to his lips and he quiets.</p>
  <p>“<em>Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde</em>.”</p>
  <p>Fox leans in, presses his forehead to hers. Her heart is full. Her soul is light.</p>
  <p>“Mine,” he promises softly.</p>
  <p>She smiles at the claim.</p>
  <p>“Mine,” she makes her own assertion.</p>
  <p>His thumb strokes along her jaw. “Precious…” He pulls her back into his lap and Ranna’s eyes grow wide as she looks down as giggles begin to bubble up in her chest.</p>
  <p>“Again already?”</p>
  <p>“We need to get to work on those little warriors.”</p>
  <p>——-</p>
  <p>Ranna really hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. Strike that. She had adamantly refused to get out of bed. She was nowhere near Fox’s level of ‘morning person’ and the pleasantly dull ache between her legs left her even more certain that bed was the perfect place for her.</p>
  <p>Unfortunately, her newly minted <em>Riduur </em>had other ideas. Mainly to watch the sunrise - just once - over Naboo’s famed lakes. He’d seemed so hopeful that she had begrudgingly crawled from her bed and slid into a pair of leggings before stealing one of the black under armors he’d packed. He seemed to approve as she tied the overly large shirt off just below her navel, his eyes lingering on the bare strip of flesh as he’d pulled his own clothes on. It had been fascinating and almost jarring to see him in something other than regulation GAR issued clothes, instead having opted for the simple pants and tunic that Padmé had left for all her guests in their rooms.</p>
  <p>“You know, we could still go back to bed and discuss the little warriors some more,” she teases lightly as she reaches across the table and retrieves an insulated carafe. She pours two mugs of rich black caf and then begins doctoring them accordingly.</p>
  <p>The light is slowly beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the lake when the patio doors open and the rest of their party ease into the cool morning air.</p>
  <p>Fox huffs, “First we eat and then we’ll discuss what pops up.”</p>
  <p>“You’re talking about sex right?” Bly’s voice echoes over the patio, “because honestly, bravo. Amiright?” He looks to an exasperated General Secura and an equally unamused Cody. “Because wow, you two give Aayla and I a run for our credits.”</p>
  <p>“Bly!” The Commander winces as Aayla cuts her eyes at him. Ranna hides her embarrassed smile in the hot mug of sweet caf.</p>
  <p>“Come on, look at him!” Bly points to Fox who sips at his own caf. “When was the last time he looked so much like himself?”</p>
  <p>“You mean a smug asshole?” Cody cuts in straight faced, but eyes dancing with amusement.</p>
  <p>“Exactly!”</p>
  <p>Ranna glances at her husband and the way he’s relaxed back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, the sleeves of his cream tunic rolled up just below his elbows with strong forearms on display… stars above! And that grin…</p>
  <p>He did, in fact, look like a smug asshole and it did things to her.</p>
  <p>“Don’t be jealous Bly. It’s not becoming.” Fox baits his <em>vod</em> happily.</p>
  <p>“Why you little <em>mir’sheb</em>-“</p>
  <p>Cody rolls his eyes and physically moves Bly out of the way with a straight arm to find his spot at the table.</p>
  <p>Aayla slides in next to Ranna. The Jedi gives her a knowing smirk before gently touching a spot just behind her ear. The twi’lek’s voice is conspiratorial. “Mous’ika! Our boys like to make it appear as if we’ve done battle with octopi, no? Bacta gel and high collars are going to be your best friend.”</p>
  <p>Ranna can feel her cheeks heating up again as Bly’s head appears over Aayla’s shoulder. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s never worn anything high collared in her entire life.”</p>
  <p>“Are we starting in on the armor argument again this early?” the blue skinned woman asks with a huff.</p>
  <p>“Now that you mention it…”</p>
  <p>The pair dissolve into playful bickering while the doors open and Padmé and Anakin make their way onto the patio, each with a baby in tow, while General Kenobi takes up the rear. The atmosphere is lively as everyone settles in. Babies are dispersed and fawned over. Bly smiles widely as Luke fumbles to touch and grab at his face. Obi-wan has a placid watchful Leia in his arms. Both look serene to a point where it’s nearly comical.</p>
  <p>The Chancellor makes his presence known as the food is being spread out.</p>
  <p>“What a strange group we have here,” he notes with a smile.</p>
  <p>“Ah yes, it would seem you have stumbled on the inaugural meeting of those who don’t believe in fraternization regulations.” Obi-wan’s eyes sparkle with mischief while at his side Cody rolls his.</p>
  <p>A small laugh rises within the group and for a moment there is no war, no separatists, no strife or heartache within the Republic. For a moment everyone is allowed to just be, without making decisions or worrying about repercussions.</p>
  <p>Ranna tops off Fox’s caf before pouring one for Cody, who thanks her with a knowing smile and nod. Fox is busy piling a plate with food. Colorful cut fruit, fresh meats, and rich pastries fill it as he sits back.</p>
  <p>The babies are making their rounds. Anakin has managed to wrangle his daughter back from the child’s Grand Master and Luke is plunked into Ranna’s arms while Padmé seems to enjoy the moment sans child.</p>
  <p>When she glances at Fox, she can’t help but notice the way he looks at the infant in her arms. His eyes soften at the little boy as he gurgles and tries to grab ahold of Ranna’s braid hanging over her shoulder.</p>
  <p>If he had his way, they’d have a tiny one of their own in nine months. Not that she was complaining. If they could use their contacts to rush Me’kar’s adoption through, they could have two before the next Festival of Life. Of course, until Padme’s bill became law, Fox wouldn’t be the father of record for at least Me’kar - possibly either child - but they’d already talked about it and they would do it the Mando way until they could-</p>
  <p>“<em>Cyar’ika</em>? You’re thinking very hard about something,” Fox notes softly, holding his hands out for his turn with Luke.</p>
  <p>“Yes, I hope you’re feeling well,” Padmé adds as Ranna admires the tiny child tucked comfortably into the crook of his elbow, “I hear that you may not have had much sleep last night.” Ranna’s head snaps to her friend who - for being an amazing politician - is doing an awful job of hiding her smile behind her cup of juice.</p>
  <p>Ranna glances sideways at the snort her husband makes. He pushes the plate of food in front of her and eyes it. “Eat, precious.”</p>
  <p>He ignores the way her eyes roll and maintains his stare until she takes the first bite of fruit.</p>
  <p>“Commander Fox.” Bail eyes the pair of them as he speaks, “I wonder if you had the report on those <em>aggressive negotiations</em> we’d spoken of yesterday.”</p>
  <p>“As I stated, they’re likely to remain heavily redacted.” The grin that spreads across Fox’s face should have warned her he was up to no good. “But my <em>Riduur</em> and I came to a perfectly reasonable agreement in the end.”</p>
  <p>Bastard<em>.</em></p>
  <p>The table goes silent as Fox looks down and coos something to Luke. Ranna puts her head down and chews longer than necessary. Someone drops a fork. Then, all at once-</p>
  <p>“As someone experienced in secret weddings-“</p>
  <p>“Can he do that? Legally speaking-”</p>
  <p>“Leave it to Fox-”</p>
  <p>“I have a sister now?! Cody we have-“</p>
  <p>“This is going to go over like a-“</p>
  <p>“There’ll be no living with him now. Does this set a-“</p>
  <p>Ranna takes another bite as she looks over at the satisfied grin on the face of the Coruscant Guard Commander. “Are you quite happy now?”</p>
  <p>“Very.”</p>
  <p>She can’t argue with that.</p>
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